One or The Other?
by Ec1aire
Summary: Ariola is an Imperial at heart, but when a mission goes wrong, Ariola starts to question who's side is really the one for her. Is she an Imperial, or a Stormcloak, and can she keep the horrors of her past bottled up? Implied Ralof/F!DB, eventual Ulfric/F!DB.
1. Prologue:

**One or the Other?**

**Prologue:**

Ariola was sat in a wagon, being taken to her death. She had been sent by the Imperial, General Tulius, to finally put an end to this rebellion, and now she was very confused. Her instructions were simple: become trusted enough to get close to Ulfric, then kill him. But it hadn't happened. It was just another ordinary day, but the Stormcloaks were excited and shifty. When Ariola questioned a friend of hers, who, incidentally, was a Stormcloak, he had stated that Ulfric was visiting their camp. Ariola had become excited too, though for a very different reason. When the man had arrived, Ariola decided to watch him before killing him. She didn't anticipate what she saw. Ulfric was walking around the camp, talking to each of the soldiers. With each one he spoke to, he managed to remember at least one personal thing about them. Ariola had been watching with avid interest as he sat with the injured. Their pain was his pain. He _cared_. Ariola was shocked. What had she expected? Tulius was nothing like him. He was serious and demanding, and, to put it blankly, nonchalant about everything. He would receive reports of fallen soldiers and not care. He wouldn't bat an eyelid. Ulfric was different. He was one with his soldiers. Ariola, after seeing this, couldn't bring herself to end this man's life, so had kept silent and hadn't acted against him.

It didn't matter now. They had been captured in an ambush, and there were at least a dozen of them in two or three wagons. Ariola was sat with Ulfric himself (who was gagged), Ralof, a Stormcloak soldier, and a feeble-looking man with dark hair. Ariola didn't know him.

Ralof looked up at her. 'I see you're finally awake.'

Ariola shook her head. 'I was never asleep. Just... thinking things over.'

Ralof shrugged. 'Alright. Still, you were there when we ran into that Imperial ambush, weren't you? You and that thief over there.'

Ariola's gaze flickered to the thin man in rags. 'Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If you hadn't been there, I could have stolen that horse and be half way to Hammerfell.' The thief scowled, before turning to Ariola. 'You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire want.'

Ralof sighed. 'We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.'

The Imperial steering the horses snapped back at them. 'Shut up back there.'

Ariola rolled her eyes. The horse thief faced Ulfric. 'What's his problem?'

She mock-winced. 'Bad move, thief!' Ariola grinned.

Ralof scowled. 'Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King of Skyrim.'

The thief paled. 'Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... oh gods, where are we going?' The thief began to panic.

Ralof sighed again. 'I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits.'

'No! This can't be happening. This isn't happening.' The thief mumbled to himself.

Ariola sighed. 'Where are you from, horse thief?' She asked gently.

The thief looked up at her. 'Why do you care?'

Ralof answered for her. 'A Nord's last thoughts should be of home.'

'R-Rorikstead. I'm from Rorikstead.' The thief finally answered.

Ariola nodded. 'General Tulius, sir, the headsman is waiting.' An Imperial soldier announced.

'Good. Let's get this over with.' Tulius replied. Ariola's head snapped up at the voice, and she watched Tulius for as long as she could, praying that he'd recognise her, but he didn't.

'Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kinareth, Akotosh, Divines, please help me.' The bumbling thief said, rocking back and forth.

Ralof was glaring at Tulius. 'Look at him. General Tulius, the Military Governor.'

'And it looks like the Thalmor are with him,' Ariola noted glumly.

'Damn Elves! I bet they had something to do with this.' Ralof growled.

Ariola looked around. 'Is this Helgen?' She asked, vaguely recognising the place.

Ralof nodded. 'I used to be sweet on a girl from here. I wonder if Vilod is still making mead with Juniper Berries mixed in.' Ralof looked a long way lost in his memories. 'It's funny, when I was a boy Imperial walls and towers made me feel so safe.'

Ariola nodded. 'Who are they, daddy?' A boy asked. Ariola turned to see a family standing and sitting on a porch, watching them.

'Go inside, little cub.' His father instructed gently.

'Why? I want to watch the soldiers.' The boy complained.

'Inside the house. Now!' The father said sternly.

The wagon, Ariola realised, was slowing. 'Why are we stopping?' The panicked thief asked.

Ralof and Ariola faced him together. 'Why do you think?' Ariola asked.

'End of the line.' Ralof finished, glancing over at Ariola. 'Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.'

'No! W-We're not rebels!' The thief yelled in vain.

'Face your death with some courage, thief.' Ariola snapped, getting annoyed by his frightened jabbering.

The thief turned to Ulfric. 'You've got to tell them we weren't with you. This is a mistake.'

Ariola snorted. 'He couldn't tell them anything with that gag.' She was itching to grab the dagger hidden in her boot to untie her binds, but resisted.

By now they were all leaving the wagon, waiting for their fate. 'Step towards the block when we call your name.' The female Imperial captain ordered. Ariola stepped forward to let Ralof into the square they'd made. 'One at a time.' The captain hissed.

Ariola snorted once more. 'Like we'd really be that eager to die.'

Ralof shot her an amused smirk, before scowling. 'Empire loves their damn lists.'

'Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm.' The Imperial said. Again, Ariola's head snapped his way. She recognised him immediately; he was an old friend of hers. A childhood friend. Hadvar.

Ralof sighed. 'It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric.' He said sadly.

'Ralof of Riverwood.' Hadvar called. Ralof sent Ariola a quick glance, before making his way towards his fellow Stormcloaks. 'Lokir of Rorikstead.'

The thief - Lokir - stepped forward. 'No, you can't do this. I'm not a rebel!' He ran off, as Ariola rolled her eyes. She began counting in her head. Counting how long it took for the Imperials to kill him.

'Halt!' The Imperial captain ordered.

Lokir, of course, did no such thing. 'You're never gonna catch me!' He cried.

'Archers!' The captain barked. Lokir received two arrows in the back. Seven seconds. The captain turned and glared at Ariola. 'Anyone else feel like running?'

Hadvar turned to Ariola. 'You,' he said. 'Step forward.' Ariola did so, refusing to meet his eyes. She didn't want him to know who he was sentencing to death, though she was sure he'd realise once she'd told him her name. 'Who are you?'

'My name is Ariola.' She replied.

Hadvar apparently didn't recognise her, by which she was both hurt and relieved. 'You picked a bad time to return home to Skyrim, kinsman.' He frowned. 'Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list?'

The captain growled. 'Forget the list. She goes to the block.'

Hadvar nodded. 'By your orders, captain.' He turned to face Ariola. 'I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland. Follow the captain, prisoner.'

Ariola ducked her head and did so, stopping on Ralof's left. She watched as Tulius approached Ulfric, who was standing tall and proud, for which Ariola had to commend him. 'Ulfric Stormcloak, some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp the throne. You started this war! Plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.'

A loud roar came from over the mountains, a roar no one recognised. 'What was that?' The captain asked.

'It was nothing. Carry on.' Tulius ordered.

'Yes, General Tulius.' The female captain turned to a priestess. 'Give them their last rights.'

The priestess nodded and raised her arms. 'As we commend your souls to Atherius, blessing of the eight Divines-'

'For the love of Talos shut up and let's get this over with!' A Stormcloak soldier interrupted.

The priestess scowled. 'As you wish.'

The Stormcloak was pushed forward. 'Come on! I haven't got all morning.' He hissed. The captain pushed him onto his knees, before lowering his head onto the block. 'My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials.' He stated proudly. 'Can you say the same?'

The axe dropped, and the defiant Stormcloak's head fell into a crate. Ralof sighed. 'As fearless in death as he was in life.'

The captain turned to face Ariola. 'Next, the Nord in the leather.'

Another roar sounded as she said that, louder this time. 'There it is again,' Hadvar commented, frowning.

'I said next prisoner,' the captain growled through clenched teeth.

Hadvar turned to Ariola. 'To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.'

Ariola did so in silence, before she was forced onto her knees and her face pushed against the block, smearing blood on her cheek. The executioner began to raise the axe, when a huge flying figure, black as night, appeared out of nowhere. 'What in Oblivion is that?!' Tulius cried.

'Dragon!' A Stormcloak female shouted.

The dragon landed on one of the towers in Helgen, knocking the executioner down and saving Ariola's life. Ariola, frozen in shock, stared into the eyes on the dragon. Then crushing realisation hit her. She was its next target.

* * *

**Hey! Okay, yeah, I know this is a long prologue, but it's important. If you have any comments at any time in the story, feel free to review or PM me. Constructive criticism welcomed, but no flames, please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

Ariola jumped off her horse, Taz, and gave him a quick pat. She was back at the camp. Her friend, Darius, smiled when he saw her and waved her over. 'Still alive, then?' He asked.

Ariola frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

Darius chuckled. 'I heard you were in Helgen when the dragon attacked.'

Ariola shuddered. 'I was. And I'd prefer not to be reminded of that, thanks.'

Another chuckle from the Stormcloak. 'If you wish.' He looked at Ariola closely. 'You alright? Something's changed about you.'

Ariola grew tense, but tried to hide it with a shrug. 'I'm fine.' She said gruffly.

Darius wisely let the subject drop. 'So, I hear Ulfric is coming here to see you.'

Ariola, who was taking a drink from a tankard, started choking. Darius rubbed her back, chortling as he did so. 'What?' She asked, looking up at him.

Darius nodded. 'Yeah. I heard there was something important he wanted to talk to you about. I don't know what.'

Ariola frowned. Could this be her chance to rectify her mistake? Ulfric should be dead by now, right? She sighed. 'Somehow I doubt I'll be able to go through with it.' She muttered under her breath.

Darius frowned. 'What was that?'

Ariola adamantly shook her head. 'Nothing, don't worry.'

Darius snorted derisively. 'I wasn't ever worried about you, little duck. Just curious.'

Ariola scowled at him. 'Never call me that again. Unless you want me to kick you straight through the doors into Oblivion.' Then she stood up and left.

Ariola made her way through the camp and went over to Taz, gently running her fingers through his thick mane and warm coat. Taz was a strong, hearty steed, and only allowed Ariola to ride him. He could tolerate strangers grooming him, but once a friend of Ariola's ended up getting knocked back by Taz's heavy body when the beast reared in protest because he'd tried to mount the creature. Ever since then, Ariola had made a point to warn anyone against trying to mount him, although not all have heeded her advice, much to her amusement. Taz snorted and gently butted his head against Ariola's shoulder, causing her to chuckle. Ariola heard footsteps approaching her, and turned to see three men watching her closely. Two had weapons, one was unarmed. One was easily identifiable, the other two less so, though Ariola could guess who they were. Ulfric was there, and Ariola suspected that the two accompanying him were Galmar Stone-Fist, his second-in-command, and Jorleif, his personal steward.

Ariola dipped her head in acknowledgement when the three neared, but did no more than that. 'Ariola Laedere?' Ulfric questioned.

Ariola winced. 'Please, do not address me with my last name. It holds... bad memories.'_ Memories I'd rather forget._

Ulfric nodded solemnly. 'It has come to my attention, Ariola, that you are not a true Stormcloak.' Ariola tilted her head questioningly to the side. 'You never came to me.' He explained.

Ariola sighed, before drawing her sword. She took a few steps forward and stabbed it into the dirt, before stepping back again. Her blade was now out of reach. Ulfric watched her avidly. 'No, I didn't.' Ariola admitted strongly. 'In fact,' she took another step back, 'I was sent here on the orders of General Tulius.'

Galmar growled and drew his weapon, but Ulfric stopped him attacking. 'Let her speak. Clearly she means no harm, or she wouldn't have given us her sword, however temporarily it may be.'

Ariola nodded. 'Thank you.' She sucked in a deep breath. 'General Tulius sent me here to infiltrate your camp and get close enough to you to kill you.' This didn't make Galmer happy. '_But,_' Ariola said, eyeing the man closely, 'I believe I cannot do that. I haven't the heart to leave the Imperial Legion yet I also haven't the heart to betray my Stormcloak friends. So for now, I have done neither. I have decided to remain neutral until I make up my mind.'

Ulfric took this news calmly, and, when he spoke, his voice was gentle. 'What stopped you?' He asked. 'I am sure there are many Legionnaires that would love to end my life, yet you, the one who was sent to do it, did not. Why?'

Ariola looked down at her feet. 'It was when you visited this camp last week. I decided to watch you before acting, to see why Tulius wants you dead so badly, besides the obvious, of course.' Ariola's lips quirked at the sides. 'I saw you walking among your men, not as if you were their senior, but as if you are equal to them. You asked about them, you remembered personal bits of information.' She met Ulfric's eyes. 'You _care_. General Tulius does not. It was for that reason I couldn't bring myself to end your life. You care for your men, you respect them, and that is what you get from them in return.'

Galmar smirked, before sheathing his hefty weapon and stepping back. Ulfric, after hearing Ariola's story, stepped forward and tugged her sword out of the ground. He examined it. It was an Elven sword, enchanted to absorb Health from whoever it hit. 'This is a beautiful sword,' Ulfric commented as he handed it back to her. Ariola took it slightly hesitantly, before sheathing it. 'Perhaps,' Ulfric said, looking Ariola quickly over, 'if you decide it, we can make a decent Stormcloak out of you. You have the form of a warrior.'

Ariola chuckled. 'You may know me as Ariola Laedere,' another small cringe, 'but a friend of mine always called me Ariola Fortis. Aliona Warrior. It was an old joke between her and me.' Ariola blushed and tried to hide her face.

Ulfric chuckled. 'Perhaps you should give your friend more credit. She sounds wise.' He gave Ariola a fleeting smile, between turning on his heels, his two comrades following behind him.

...

Ulfric turned to Galmar as they left Ariola, and as soon as they were out of earshot, he murmured to his friend. 'Keep an eye on her. She could be a great asset, if she chooses us.'

Galmar frowned. 'How so?'

Ulfric smiled. 'She may not think I remember it, but she was at Helgen. If she can survive that, then she's worth something. Maybe even a lot. There's something different about her. Something special. You'll see.' Ulfric smirked smugly, and their conversation ended there.

**...**

Ariola rode to Whiterun with a clear sense of urgency. When the city came into view, Ariola caught sight of a giant in a farm. While Taz galloped towards the beast, Ariola drew an arrow and shot it towards the giant. It hit home on the back of its head, and the giant collapsed, dead. Ariola sheathed her bow, and was approached by a lithe woman in Ancient Nord Armour.

'You handle yourself well. You could make for a decent shield-sister.' She said. 'I'm Aela.'

'Ariola.' Ariola replied, stopping Taz in front of the woman. 'What's a shield-sister?'

Aela smiled. 'An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions?'

Ariola smiled too, and nodded. 'I have.' She said, patting Taz's neck when the horse snorted impatiently. 'Can I join you?'

Aela shrugged. 'It's not for me to say. Speak to Kodlak in our mead hall, Jorrvaskr, if you're serious. And thanks for your help, Ariola.'

Ariola smiled and nodded, before urging Taz into an even canter. When they clattered up to the stables, Ariola dismantled and passed Taz's reins to the stable boy, warning him about Taz's tendency to lash out when a stranger mounts him. The stable boy smiled and thanked her.

Ariola then made her way up the path into the city. She was briefly stopped by a guard, but was let in when she told him she had important news to tell the Jarl.

Jarl Bulgruuf took the news of the dragon as well as expected. He then sent Ariola on a mission to Bleak Falls Barrow, to collect something called the Dragonstone.

...

When she returned, Jarl Bulgruuf's housecarl, Irileth, announced that a dragon was attacking the Western Watchtower. She requested Ariola's help, and the red-haired Nord agreed.

Ariola mounted Taz and rode him towards the tower, quickly leaving the rest of the guards behind. When the watchtower rolled into view, it was obvious the dragon had been there. Great pillars of smile rose up from the stone, while large fires threatened to consume the entire tower. Ariola slid off Taz's back and gave him a swift pat, telling him to head back to the stables. The dark horse did so, after butting Ariola's shoulder. Ariola drew her sword just as Irileth and the few guards who had agreed to help appeared.

'There's no sign of any dragon now,' Irileth said, pointing out the obvious, 'but he's certainly been here. Spread out and look for survivors.'

Ariola walked forward with them, looking around for the potential threat. 'He could still be lurking around somewhere,' Ariola cautioned. 'Stay on your guard.'

Ariola made it up to the entrance of the tower before the dragon appeared. With a vicious roar, it swept right past her, almost hitting her with its pointed tail. Ariola got out her Elven bow and arrows and began shooting at the dragon. One of her arrows embedded itself in the dragon's throat. The dragon roared and then landed. Ariola drew her sword and began attacking the beast, as did many of the guards. But the dragon was only interested in Ariola. It snapped at her and tried to attack her, but she was too quick for it. One last swipe of her sword ended the dragon's life.

'Dovahkiin. No!' It hissed as its body crumpled and collapsed. The dragon's skin began to disintegrate and burn away, and then a fierce coloured light shot towards Ariola. The girl winced when it hit her, because it felt cold. She felt pain in her heart, like she'd just murdered a brother. It was not something she wanted to feel again.

* * *

**R&R!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Ulfric opened the letter, expecting yet more requests to visit some noble's house to meet said noble's daughter. Talos, how he hated those. But it wasn't. It was a message from the Greybeards. "Ulfric Stormcloak. Another child has been summoned to High Hrothgar, and we would ask that you come here to welcome her. If what we have felt is believable, then she is the Dragonborn of legend. Arngeir." Ulfric scratched his stubbly chin thoughtfully, before standing.

'Jorleif, I have been summoned by the Greybeards. I trust you and Galmar to keep the enemy away from these halls in my absence.' Ulfric barked to his steward.

Jorleif bowed. 'We will, my lord. Talos guide you on your travels.'

Ulfric smiled and nodded his head in thanks, before leaving the Palace of the Kings.

**...**

The trek up the mountain itself was hazardous and brutal. When you also had to kill four wolves, two snowy sabre cats and a frost troll, it started to take its toll. Ariola was dragging her feet through the snow by the time High Hrothgar came into view, the bitter cold seeping into her wounds like salt. They were stinging, yelling at her to be covered, but she had nothing, so they persisted in weakening her. Ariola reached the bottom of the steps when, finally, her exhaustion became too much. She couldn't drag herself another foot. Ariola collapsed on the freezing stone, breathing in the cold, crisp air and trying to ignore the pain from her torn skin. But it became too much, and she passed out on the steps.

**...**

Ulfric rounded a corner, the stone steps suddenly becoming submerged in snow. He sighed. This wasn't an easy climb even for the youngest people, and he wasn't particularly young anymore. When High Hrothgar came into view, Ulfric saw something at the bottom at the steps that wasn't supposed to be there. He rushed forward and knelt down beside the unconscious body. It was a red-haired woman, and she was lying on her front. Ulfric sighed again. It wasn't like she was unprepared for the trip - she was wearing thick fur armour that seemed particularly cold-resistant. The problem was she had scrapes, cuts and bruises all over her exposed limbs. One particularly deep one appeared to be going green. Ulfric carefully turned the woman over, and was surprised when he saw who it was.

'Ariola?' He whispered to himself, before chuckling. 'Galmar, you owe me a drink; I told you she was special.' Ulfric scooped Ariola into his arms and gently carried her into the monastery.

Upon seeing them, two of the Greybeards rushed forward and helped Ulfric take Ariola into the infirmary. They worked on warming her - at which point Ulfric offered up his fur-lined cloak - and cleaning her wounds. The infected one was far more difficult, but the skills of the Greybeards were unmatched, and they managed to somehow draw the infection out of the wound. Ulfric stood to the side and watched for most of it, leaning his back against the stone wall. Arngeir approached him.

'Who is this woman?' The elder asked.

Ulfric smirked. 'I believe she is the woman whom you call Dragonborn, Master Arngeir.'

Arngeir raised an eyebrow and looked closely at Ariola. He was about to say something, but Ariola started muttering to herself. 'Aal hin hokoron mah... ahrk hin grah-zeymahzin kron.' She said.

Ulfric turned to Arngeir, who had grown taught. 'What did she say?' Ulfric asked.

Arngeir sighed, before answering. '"May your enemies fall and your allies conquer." It would seem, she already has knowledge of the dragon tongue.'

Ulfric nodded, frowning at her words, nonetheless. 'What is she talking about? Why those words?'

Arngeir shook his head. 'I do not know. Perhaps that should be something you ask her when she wakes.'

Ulfric considered it, but eventually dismissed the thought. He would ask her, just not here, where the Greybeards could hear. Ulfric had a feeling that Ariola's words were not for them to understand. Possibly not even for him to understand, but he wanted to try before he let it go completely. Ulfric saw Einarth moving away from Ariola's body. 'She will recover.' Is all he said, before walking back into the main hall of the ancient monastery. The other Greybeards left too, but Ulfric decided to stay with the red-haired Nord. While she slept, Ulfric got a good look at her features. She wore dark eye shadow and had dark red - almost black - lips. Her skin was unusually pale and she had defined cheekbones. She was - dare he admit it? - very beautiful. Ulfric heard a soft groan escape the girl's lips, and her eyes opened. They were bright green and alive. They spoke of adventures not even he would attempt.

Ariola looked at Ulfric, and a light frown formed on her face. 'Ulfric?' She looked around in confusion. 'Where am I?' She asked, pushing herself into a seating position. Ariola winced, her fingers holding her ribcage, but otherwise seemed oblivious to the wounds on her skin. Or at least, very used to having them.

'You are in High Hrothgar.' Ulfric answered, pushing away from the wall. 'I found you unconscious in the snow outside and brought you in.' Ulfric smiled as he remembered the animals he found scattered along the 7000 steps. 'What was it? Two sabre cats, three, no four, wolves, and a frost troll?'

Ariola blinked, thought about it for a moment, then nodded. 'I think so. I don't tend to keep count.'

Ulfric chuckled. 'Of course.' His eyes drifted down the corridor, to the Greybeards in the main hall. 'They want to see you.'

Ariola nodded. 'I guessed.' She got to her feet and pushed past the Jarl of Windhelm without any sort of limp.

Ulfric smirked and followed her with his eyes, before trailing behind the red-head. He stopped at the entrance to the hall, and leaned against the wall to watch.

Ariola had a remarkable understanding of the dragon language. She learned the dragon Words of Power with incredible ease, and could transform them into a Shout better even than a professional. Quicker than any Greybeard. Ulfric watched her with avid interest, secretly very impressed by her skill. When they moved outside, Ariola was taught a new Shout, one Ulfric himself didn't know. Whirlwind Sprint, it was called, according to Arngeir. Ariola mastered that one too. All of them were impressed by her abilities, and Arngeir gave her a quest, to complete her training.

When the Greybeards dispersed, Ariola turned to Ulfric. 'I wasn't expecting you to be here. Why _are_ you here?' She asked, narrowing her eyes at him a little.

Ulfric internally chuckled at her boldness. Clearly she had forgotten who she was talking to, or had decided to abandon any sort of formality. 'The Greybeards invited me here, to meet you. Or, as it turned out, re-meet you.'

Ariola tilted her head to the side. 'Fair enough.' She gave him a quick smile. 'I should go.'

Ulfric, speaking without thinking, replied with 'May your enemies fall, and your allies conquer.'

Ariola froze mid-step. Her breathing seemed to pick up. Her head moved slowly around, until she was facing Ulfric with an expression of pure distress. Ulfric winced. 'How do you know that phrase?' She asked weakly. Ulfric could hear tears in her voice.

Ulfric sighed. 'You said it, while you were unconscious. Sort of.' Ariola looked questioningly at him. 'You said it in the dragon tongue.'

'Aal hin hokoron mah ahrk hin grah-zeymahzin kron.' Ariola spoke, and, judging by her expression of surprise, she hadn't expected what she said.

Ulfric nodded. 'Arngeir translated you. What does it mean?'

Ariola shook her head. 'I can't say. I'm sorry.' Then she ran off, Ulfric staring helplessly behind her.

**...**

The cold wind battered Ariola's cheeks. She had decided to return to the Stormcloak camp near Morthal. Darius met her with a smile. 'Hey there, Ariola. You've been gone for a while.'

Ariola shrugged, sitting on one of the fallen trunks that made a seat next to the small campfire. 'I've been busy.'

Darius frowned. 'Doing what?'

Ariola shrugged. 'All sorts.'

'Like...?' Darius raised an eyebrow.

Ariola shrugged again. 'Just stuff. Nothing really important.'

Darius wisely let it drop. 'So what did Ulfric want with you? Before you left to... wherever you went.'

Ariola smiled. 'Just things.'

Darius groaned. 'Stop being so vague!' He complained.

Ariola giggled. 'Not a chance.'

Darius sighed and became silent. Ariola liked this side of him. The too-busy-thinking-about-my-own-things-to-annoy-you side of him. Ariola held her head in her hands, the main problem she was facing surfacing to the very front of her mind. Stormcloak or Imperial? She'd been raised with Imperial ideals. Her parents and two brothers were unswayable Legionnaires, and so that was how Ariola was raised too. Ariola was proud to be working for General Tulius, and had been eager to prove herself when she first joined the Legion. She'd made her way through the ranks very quickly, and was now a captain - almost a Legate, if she actually went through with killing Ulfric. But then she met the man she had been ordered to kill. She'd made friends among the Stormcloaks, had begun to respect their need to fight for their freedom. She began to hate the Thalmor for ridding them of this freedom, and then a dislike for the Legion itself had begun. She had no idea what to do. To stay with the Legion would mean betraying her new friends. To become a Stormcloak would mean betraying her old friends and her family, although she hadn't seen the remnants of her family for several years.

A loud yell snapped her out of her reverie. Ariola looked up to see Imperials storming the camp. Every Stormcloak jumped up to fight them, but Ariola remained where she was. What should she do?! Before long, Ariola noticed that Ulfric had joined them, and was fighting with his men. Fighting _for_ his men. Ariola admired him for this. Then she spotted General Tulius, sitting on his horse's back and watching the battle unfold. Anger started boiling in Ariola's veins. 'Stop, dammit!' She shouted, the power of her Thu'um increasing the volume of her shout and making the ground shake beneath their feet. The battle froze, every man and woman turning to face the young Dovahkiin.

Tulius moved and appeared behind her, sliding out of his horse's saddle. Ulfric stepped in front of her. She was cornered. Sandwiched between the two men, the two armies she wanted to fight for. Before her eyes, the Imperial soldiers moved to stand behind Tulius, and the Stormcloaks moved to stand behind Ulfric. And still she was alone, facing her own choice. Ariola curled her hands into fists, closing her eyes. 'Captain Ariola Laedere,' Tulius said, finally recognising her. Ariola let out an irritated growl. _Laedere._ 'I was wondering when I'd see you again.'

Ulfric raised his eyebrows. 'You never told me you were a captain, Ariola.' He said.

Ariola sighed. 'You never asked.'

Tulius frowned. 'You know she is one of us?' Ulfric nodded. 'Yet you haven't killed her. You even let her walk among your soldiers.'

A shocked murmur went over the Stormcloak crowd. Ulfric held up a hand to silence them. 'Ariola is no longer an avid Legionnaire, Tulius.' he said.

Tulius turned his sharp eyes to Ariola. 'Is this true, captain?'

Ariola sighed, before nodding. 'You sent me to kill a man who is one with his soldiers. You want me to kill a man who doesn't place himself above anyone else. Not in the way you might expect.' Her own eyes hardened. 'You want me to kill him in cold blood.'

Tulius growled in frustration. 'This man's rebellion is worth the lives of hundreds.'

Ariola glared at her General. 'I refuse to take his life when he is not defending himself. If he were to attack me, or threaten my life, then it would be a different matter entirely, but he has done neither. I will not kill a man in cold blood, _General._' Her last word was a sneer. Suddenly her choice was clear; it was easy. There was no choice. Only one side could be _her_ side, and she stepped into that side now. Ariola placed herself beside Ulfric, between him and Darius. 'I will not kill the man I follow.'

Ariola's move to the Stormcloak side caused a shout of outrage to escape every Legionnaire's mouth. Tulius mounted his horse and glared icicles at his former-captain. 'You have betrayed your family, Ariola Laedere.' Ariola hissed in rage, but Tulius continued, ignoring her. 'Your brothers will never forgive you.'

Ariola drew herself to her full height. 'I do not require their forgiveness. If they do not accept my actions, they are not my true family.'

Tulius gave her one last glare, before ordering his remaining men away. They left, and Ulfric turned to Ariola. 'Under normal circumstances I would require you to prove both your loyalty and your arm.' His lips quirked up at the side. 'I don't require either, this time. If you are loyal enough to leave your family behind, then your loyalty is already proven.' Another smile, wider this time. 'And I am already aware you are strong with a weapon, after your expedition up the 7000 steps. Welcome to the Stormcloaks.'

Ariola smiled weakly, but her heart wasn't really in it. 'Thank you, Ulfric. I guess it was easier to figure out where I belong than I thought.'

Ulfric put a comforting arm on her shoulder as the Stormcloak soldiers began to disperse. 'I know this isn't easy for you, but if you need help adjusting, just say the word and I'll do what I can.'

Ariola smiled genuinely this time. 'I don't doubt that for a second.'

* * *

**Alright, so I want to write another story, only it's about the Thieves' Guild. Judging from what you've read so far, I would appreciate it if you told me what you think and whether or not it's a good idea. Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Ariola sighed and left the Morthal Stormcloak camp with a heavy heart. Her joining of the Stormcloaks was a shock to her, so she needed space, and fast. She made her way towards Taz and gently stroked his dark hide. Taz snorted and allowed her to mount him, before Ariola turned him towards the south-east. _Time to visit Riften_, she thought. It was the only major city in Skyrim she hadn't yet laid eyes on.

The miles were slowly eaten away and Taz cantered along the cobblestone paths leading the way to Riften. Ariola pulled him to a stop and looked down at the misty Skyrim landscape. In the distance, the streets of Riften could be seen, but there were still several miles left to travel. Ariola gave Taz a loving pat, before pushing him into a gallop. Taz slowed before long, his stamina lasting for only a few minutes. He continued happily at a canter, however, and so they appeared at the Riften stables before noon. Ariola slid gracefully of Taz's back and handed him to the stable hand, with the usual warning.

Ariola was stopped by one of the guards outside the door. He demanded a tax off her. Ariola narrowed her eyes. 'I don't think so. This is obviously a scam.' She had met her fair share of thieves over the months, so knew this man was not a real guard.

The guard, wincing, quickly let her into the city. Ariola shot him one last glare, before walking along the wooden decked streets. Her boots made loud clunking noises, but no more than anyone else's. The first thing Ariola did was visit the blacksmith and order a new set of armour. Her leather armour was getting tatty and old, and Ariola was in desperate need of something fresh. While she waited for the armour to be completed, Ariola watched the market. There were four stalls set up. Two were manned by Nords, one by a Dunmer, one by an Argonian. While Ariola had nothing against Argonians, the sight of male Dark Elves sent an uncontrollable shiver up her spine. Ariola checked her pockets. Good, she still had a decent amount of gold left. She felt a soft tap on her shoulder. The blacksmith was holding out her new armour with a smile. Ariola gratefully took it and, after a brief conversation with the man, gave him ten Fire Salts. He was shocked.

'W-Why?' He asked.

Ariola smiled. 'I'm an adventurer and a warrior, so I've picked up a few things like this. I am not, however, alchemist, so they were going to be sold at some point. I'm happy to give them to you, if it means you can continue your trade.'

The blacksmith smiled. 'You are a kind woman. Thank you.'

Ariola smiled back and moved into the inn, asking for a room for the night. She swapped her leather armour for the heavy Orcish armour. It was made to perfection, fitting her slim frame exactly. Ariola smiled and pulled her vibrant hair out of its loose braid. It flowed down around her shoulders and halfway down her back. After raking her fingers through her hair, Ariola made her way back towards the stables. She was done here now.

Taz was exhausted by the time they made it to Windhelm, and Ariola murmured her apologies to the horse, before telling the stable boy to treat him. She passed him ten septims to cover the expenses, plus some extra for his help. The boy grinned and thanked her.

'I sometimes wonder if there is any limit to your generosity.' A voice said behind her.

Ariola smiled, knowing who spoke even before she turned around. 'I am not openly generous, however those who require or deserve generosity get it from me.'

Ulfric chuckled, and they made their way towards the city, walking side-by-side. 'Reports have told me you recently visited Riften. You weren't dragged into the Thieves' Guild while you were there, were you?'

Ariola shook her head. 'I would never willingly join a faction like that.'

Ulfric nodded. 'I'm glad to hear it. Still, I hear even the unwilling can be dragged into a theft or two.'

Ariola chuckled. 'When I was a child I once attempted thievery. It rewarded me only with...' Ariola trailed off, stopping in her tracks as she remembered exactly what happened.

Ulfric stopped too. They were only just over halfway across the bridge. 'Ariola?'

Ariola took in a shaky breath, before walking to the edge of the bridge and looking down at the icy river beneath them. 'I never told you why the use of my real surname brings me pain, did I?' She said sadly. 'When I was a child, I spent most of my time pretending I was some magnificent warrior. I used to dream of being the most fabled warrior in Tamriel.' She smirked, but couldn't fight the tears gathering in her eyes. 'My parents were farmers, and resented any kind of violence, despite the fact they strongly backed the Imperial Legion. My whole family did. They used to tell me over and over not to think of such things, but I couldn't stop. I'm ashamed to admit I barely even noticed when my mother passed away. When I was eight it became too much for my father. He had taken to drinking after her death, and so he was never thinking properly. He began to get violent with me whenever I mentioned fighting. He began to...' Ariola's breath hitched in her throat, and she screwed her eyes closed.

Ulfric was distressed by her obvious pain. 'You don't need to continue.' He said kindly.

'No, I do.' Ariola insisted strongly. 'I can't stop now I've started. I have to see it through.' She took a deep breath. 'He began beating me. He said I deserved a beating for every mention of warriors or fighting I'd ever made. It continued for months. I had no siblings to turn to; my brothers would never understand. There were also no guards anywhere near our house. I was cornered. One night, it became too much. He decided I had been beaten enough for my "betrayal." For a blissful week there were no beatings. I began to feel normal again, though I could still feel the pain in my body from his assaults. Then he turned to a whip. He said I deserved to be whipped for ignoring my mother's death. And then it continued, five times worse than before. I'd had enough. During one of those whippings, I snapped. I couldn't stand it any more. I grabbed a butter knife from the kitchen table and stabbed his arms with it, so he couldn't hurt me anymore. I then ran away.' Tears were cascading freely down her cheeks now. 'I found out three days later that my father had died in a house fire. And I felt no remorse. In fact, I was comforted by his death.' Ariola sighed and turned to face Ulfric, who's expression was that only of immense sympathy. 'As you've probably already guessed, my father's surname as Laedere. Every time that word is mentioned, I remember every horrible moment he caused me. And it _hurts_.' A sob escaped Ariola's lips, and she sank onto the freezing stone of the bridge.

Ulfric stared at her in stunned silence. Ariola could feel his gaze on her, but was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. There, she had done it. Finally shared her most painful secret. To the Jarl of Windhelm, no less. Ulfric looked down at the girl. 'I am so sorry. I didn't know. If I knew-'

'If you knew then I wouldn't have been able to look you in the eye. We were strangers at the time. Still are, though I feel I know you better now. Somehow I thought telling you would ease the pain, because you're the sort of man who listens. It hasn't made it easier to bare, but I feel comforted by the fact that perhaps someone understands me better now.' Ariola spoke as emotionlessly as she could, but the torture from her memories was audible in her tone.

Ulfric knelt down beside her and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. 'No man, or woman, should have to face a burden like that alone. You did the right thing in telling someone, Ariola. I'm just honoured that it was me. Now, Miss Fortis, as much as this bridge is interesting, I would prefer to move inside the city walls.' Ulfric paused. 'I will provide a room for you in the Palace.'

Ariola chuckled. 'I don't know, this bridge is pretty _fascinating_.' She stood up, some of the torment leaving her eyes.

Ulfric shook his head in an amused manner. 'Come on, let's get us both inside. I may be used to it, but I prefer warmth to cold.'

Ariola smiled. 'I'll second that.'

**...**

The bed was soft beneath Ariola's body, but for some reason she couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find a comfortable position. After a while, Ariola gave a frustrated huff and got out of bed. The Jarl had delivered on his promise, and had given Ariola a permanent room in the Palace until such time as she no longer required it. Ariola navigated her way down the torch-lit corridors until she made it to the main hall. It was - unsurprisingly - empty. Ariola, desperately needing _something_ to do, decided to go into the war room, a.k.a, Galmar's office. Ariola looked down at the map before her and thought. There was an obvious divide between the two sides; the eastern half of Skyrim was Stormcloak territory, the western was Imperial. Ariola followed the line of Stormcloak camps and cities with her finger. When she stopped, her finger rested on the centre of the map: Whiterun. That was where they needed to strike next.

'Are you a tactician as well as a warrior?' A deep voice asked.

Ariola looked up to see Galmar walk in, wiping the sleep from his eyes. 'For my part,' she replied. 'I'm not particularly skilled in tactics, but the more obvious things I can pick up on.'

Galmar sighed. 'Then maybe you could give us a hand. Ulfric, Jorleif and I are stumped; we don't know what our next best move is.'

Ariola smiled and placed her finger on Whiterun. 'We need to take Whiterun. Judging by our current camp and city locations, it's the next logical choice. It's also at the heart Skyrim. A position like that would be hugely beneficial.'

Galmar chuckled. 'I've no idea how we managed to miss that.' He gave Ariola a grateful pat on the shoulder. 'Nice going, Dragonborn.'

Ariola grew tense. 'How do you know about that?' She asked through clenched teeth.

Galmar apparently didn't notice her discomfort. 'Word spread fairly quickly. Also, Ulfric told me on his return from High Hrothgar.'

Ariola sighed. _Of course he did._ 'Fair enough.' She said weakly, suddenly filled with exhaustion. 'I'm going back to bed.'

Galmar grunted in response, already working on their new plans. Ariola made her way along the corridors to her room, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

**...**

The harsh sunlight caused all the silver in the room to glint sharply, the light reflecting directly on to Ariola's face. She groaned and got up. The sky was clear and empty, not a single cloud in sight. Ariola smiled at the thought. Windhelm needed a break from the snow. Ariola walked over to the mannequin baring her new armour and quickly put it on over her red tunic. Ariola buckled the armour securely, including the bit that was fastened around her neck. She then gave her wild hair a quick comb through, deciding to leave it loose over her shoulders and back. She would put it up later if needed, but for now she wanted it unrestrained. Ariola left the room and made her way along the winding corridor, before heading straight to the war room. As expected, Ulfric and Galmar were already deep in conversation. Ariola decided to watch, leaning against the wall with her arms folded.

Ulfric looked up and spotted her, indicating with his eyes that she should come forward. 'It would appear I have _you_ to thank for this new plan. Galmar told me the events of last night.'

Ariola nodded. 'I'm guessing you have something for me to do.'

Ulfric nodded. 'I want you to give Bulgruuf my axe.' He handed the heavy weapon to Ariola, who took it without question.

She smirked. 'An old Nord tradition; I should have guessed. I will return soon, with his answer.' Ulfric nodded, and, after tucking the axe away, Ariola left.

**...**

When she entered the Palace again, Ariola returned Ulfric's axe with a heavy heart. 'Bulgruuf has sided with the Empire.'

'Then I was wrong about him.' Ulfric sighed, before turning to Galmar. 'You were right, Galmar.'

'Again?'

Ulfric glared at his general. 'I'm in no mood to joke.'

'Give the word, my lord, and Whiterun is yours.' Galmar said, his eagerness palpable.

'Whiterun is only a means to an end.' Ulfric sighed again.

'I've toured our camps. We're ready, Ulfric... Whenever you are.'

'Is any man ever ready to give the order that will mean the deaths of many?' Ulfric asked, glancing up at Galmar.

'No. But neither is every man able to give that order when he must. But you are that man, Ulfric. You've been that man before, and you'll be him again. And these men and women, they call themselves Stormcloaks because they believe in you. They're the meanest, toughest sons of bitches Skyrim has to offer. And they want this. They want this as much as you do. Perhaps they want it more.' Galmar stated profusely.

'You're certain we're ready? Whiterun's army will no doubt be bolstered with Legionnaires. And those walls around Whiterun are old, but they still stand.' Ulfric suddenly sounded unsure.

Galmar scoffed. 'We're ready. And I might be old myself, but I'll kick those damn walls down with my bare feet - if you would only ask me to do it!'

Ulfric gave a dry laugh. 'And I'm sure you could do it, too. Alright. This is it.'

'Yes!' Galmar hissed, grinning like a maniac.

'Send the word. "A new day is dawning and the sun rises over Whiterun."' Ulfric ordered, his confidence returning.

'Aye, and the sons of Skyrim will greet that dawn teeth and swords flashing.' Galmar said proudly.

'So it begins.' Ulfric murmured. He then turned to Ariola, who was still standing and watching. 'Make haste to our camp in Whiterun. I want you on the front lines. I have a feeling about you; your place is on that battlefield. I need you there.'

Ariola nodded. 'And be there I will.' She began to leave, before turning back and grinning. 'I will return when Whiterun has fallen.'

Ulfric chuckled. 'I'm sure you will. Good luck, Dragonborn.' Ariola hid a sigh as she left. Being called _Dragonborn_ was something she just could not get used to.

* * *

**Sorry if the dialogue isn't right. I've remembered as much as I can (with a few alterations for Ariola to speak) but I can't promise it's exactly right. As usual, please tell me what you think.**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

A barrage of assaults from the Stormcloak's catapults set the entire city of Whiterun on fire. They had managed to infiltrate the city, and were now making their way along the streets, cutting down Imperials and Whiterun guards as they went. Ariola sliced at an Imperial's stomach with a pang of guilt, before a high-pitched scream hit her ears. Scanning the area, Ariola caught sight of a group of children huddled together. They were trapped. Pushed against the walls of a building by an entourage of flames. Ariola, cursing to herself, ran over to the children and hurriedly put out the fire. She sighed. Now she'd need _another_ new set of armour.

Ariola crouched down in front of the children. 'Get as close to the city wall as you can, and keep each other safe.' She instructed.

They nodded and followed her orders, hiding between the wall and a building which, thankfully, wasn't burning. Ariola turned and re-joined the battle, making short work of any opposing warriors. An arrow whistled towards her, and a sharp intake of breath went through Ariola's teeth as the arrow embedded itself in her arm. Luckily, it wasn't her fighting arm. Roughly yanking the arrow out of the wound - not noticing that the arrowhead remained inside it - Ariola continued as if she wasn't injured. When the Stormcloaks reached Dragonsreach, Ariola gripped her sword even tighter. _This was it._ She entered. Half a dozen Whiterun guards came charging at her and her comrades, but they all fell. Eventually, Irileth and Jarl Bulgruuf stepped forward to fight. Ariola got Irileth in a steel grip, and showed the Dark Elf to Bulgruuf.

Bulgruuf's eyes widened at the sight of not only his housecarl held with a knife to her throat, but also the sight of his Thane holding said knife. 'Stop!' The Jarl shouted, never moving his eyes off Ariola and Irileth. 'Stop, I surrender.' Bulgruuf sheathed his sword and stopped fighting.

Ariola cautiously released Irileth just as Vignar Grey-Mane, an important noble of the city, sauntered in. Ariola didn't hang around long - politics bored her more than she would ever admit. While she was waiting outside Dragonsreach, looking over the burning city, a familiar voice addressed her. 'I guess you made it to the Stormcloaks after all.'

Ariola turned and smiled at her friend. 'It's good to see you again, Ralof. How are Hod, Gerdur and Frodnar?'

Ralof shrugged. 'They were fine the last time I saw them. That was a while ago, though. I left only a couple of days after you did.'

Ariola smiled. 'I've just had a thought: if the success of the Stormcloaks continues at its current rate, poor Frodnar won't be able to fight the Legion.' Ariola gave a look of mock-sympathy. 'I feel for the boy.'

Ralof chuckled. 'I'm sure he'll live. Besides, if we do win this war, then by the time he's old enough to fight, the Thalmor could be on our doorstep.'

Ariola grinned. 'He could still get what he wants, then.'

Ralof nodded, before looking down at Whiterun with glazed eyes. 'I wonder if the can see the city burning from there.' He said absently.

Ariola shook her head. 'I very much doubt it. At least, not the city itself. The smoke, maybe.'

The doors to the great palace opened, and both Ralof and Ariola turned to see Vignar re-emerging from the place. 'I wish to thank you both for your contribution to this battle.' He said, and though he sounded sincere, Ariola didn't think he quite meant what he said. He turned to face her. 'I want you to go and inform Ulfric of this. You, young man, shall remain here to help rebuild this city.'

They both nodded. Ariola turned to Ralof and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. 'There will songs about this day, my friend.'

Ralof smiled. 'Songs of the Dragonborn.'

Ariola rolled her eyes, shouting 'There are already songs of the Dragonborn, Ralof!' as she ran down the steps. Before leaving the city, Ariola went to check up on the children, but they had moved from their hiding space. While walking through the marketplace, she saw them all, still in a big group. Upon seeing Ariola, they ran up to her and hugged her around the waist and back.

Ariola laughed and hugged them all back. 'Thank you for saving us earlier, miss.' A young girl said, looking up at Ariola with wide brown eyes.

Ariola gently patted her head. 'What else could I do? Now, all of you, go and find your parents.' They nodded and ran off. Except one. The little girl who spoke.

Ariola frowned and knelt down in front of the girl, her eyes questioning. The girl looked sad. 'I lost my parents,' the girl whimpered. 'My father was killed before I was born and mama... she... died. My aunt and uncle took over our farm and threw me out. Said I wasn't good for anything, so I came here.'

Ariola looked sympathetically at the young girl. 'Do you like horses?'

The girl looked up, her eyes shining, and nodded enthusiastically. 'I love them! They're my favourite type of animal.'

Ariola smiled. 'I have a friend who works up in the Windhelm stables. I'm sure he could let you work there, if you want.'

The girl suddenly had tears in her eyes. 'You would do that? For me?'

Ariola laughed and stroked her girl's hair. 'I can't exactly leave you here on your own, can I?'

The girls threw her arms around Ariola's neck, sobbing with happiness. 'Thank you, lady. Thank you!'

Ariola hugged her back. 'It's Ariola. And you're welcome.'

The girl pulled back and smiled. 'My name is Lucia.'

'Okay then, Lucia, let's get out of here.' Ariola held out her hand, and Lucia willingly took it.

**...**

Taz came to an abrupt stop when they arrived outside Windhelm. He was of course not happy with Lucia being on his back, but Ariola had managed to persuade the stallion to let the girl ride him. Ariola lifted Lucia out of Taz's saddle, and held her close. 'I'm cold,' Lucia complained weakly.

Ariola sighed. 'Sorry. If you work here, you may have to get used to it, but, trust me, it'll be worth it.' Ariola led the young Imperial girl to the doors of the stable owner, and knocked. Her favourite stable boy opened the door.

'Hey there, miss!' he said cheerfully. 'How can I help?'

Ariola smiled down at him. 'Would it be possible for Lucia to work here with you for a while? She's homeless now.'

The boy frowned. 'I don't know, I'll have to check with Ulundil and Arivanya. Give me a moment.' He disappeared inside, and Ariola took the time to crouch down beside Lucia.

'You alright?' She asked softly. Lucia nodded. 'You'll be safe and happy here, I promise. And I'll make sure I come and see you whenever I can.' Ariola smiled at the girl and gently kissed the top of her head, before straightening.

Ulundil appeared by the door and looked at Lucia closely. 'You want us to take her in?' He asked. His voice was kind and gentle.

Ariola nodded. 'If it's not a problem. If need be, I can pay for all her provisions until she's old enough to properly fend for herself.'

Ulundil smiled and shook his head. 'That won't be necessary. Eronmir said you often pay him extra for looking after your horse. We couldn't ask for more from you. The girl's in safe hands, I promise.'

Ariola smiled. 'I believe you.' She gently passed Lucia to the man. 'Be a good girl, alright, Lucia? I'll visit as often as I can.'

Lucia nodded, smiling. 'Thanks again for helping me, Ariola.'

Ariola chuckled and ruffled the girl's hair, causing Lucia to pout. 'No problem, kiddo. See you around.' Ulundil and Lucia went inside the house - with Lucia still trying to sort out her hair - and closed the door, keeping Ariola out. The Dragonborn sighed. 'Work hard.' She whispered to herself, before turning towards the city and walking along the snow-covered stone bridge.

**...**

Ariola shuddered upon entering the Palace of the Kings. The wind had picked up while she was walking through the streets of Windhelm. It was a harsh, cold wind. Ariola stopped mid-step when she saw someone all too familiar kneeling in front of Ulfric. Ulfric was watching the man, but then his eyes shifted to Ariola, and he became obviously suspicious.

'Dragonborn, is something wrong?' He asked, not using Ariola's real name.

Ariola slowly walked forward and stood in front of the man, shaking her head when she saw him. 'Keirdin what in the name of Talos are _you_ doing here?' She asked, venom coating her voice.

The brown-haired man flinched and looked up, meeting Ariola's eyes with obvious reluctance. 'Ariola. I could ask you the same. And what's this about you being the Dragonborn?' He asked, standing straight.

Ariola scowled at him. 'I'm here because I have important news to share with Ulfric. I don't know how to respond to your second question; I am the Dragonborn, plain and simple.'

Ulfric placed a hand on Ariola's shoulder. 'Who is he, Ariola?'

Ariola didn't move her eyes away from Keirdin's rigid form. 'He's my brother.' She said. Ariola could feel Ulfric's hand tightening on her shoulder, and quickly shrugged it off. 'And I'll bet my honour he's here as an Imperial spy.'

'Like you were,' her brother spat.

Ariola glared at him, causing the man to shrink away. 'I was. I am not now. I am a Stormcloak now, and I have no intentions of changing that.'

'Like you had no intentions of leaving the Legion, either?' Keirdin sneered.

Ariola rolled her eyes. 'Get out of here before I skewer you where you stand.'

Keirdin snorted. 'Like you'd really have the guts t-'

'GET OUT!' Ariola shouted, her blood boiling with rage.

Keirdin narrowed his eyes at her, but turned on his heel and stalked off. As soon as he'd left, the fight left Ariola and she fell to her knees, overcome by despair. Ulfric gently soothed her by rubbing her back. 'You did the right thing, Ariola.' There was a hint of a smile in his voice. 'Again.'

Ariola sighed. 'I thought he was far from here. Far from _Skyrim_. He told us he was going to Morrowind. I guess he decided to come back.' Ariola's gaze hardened and she stood.

'What is your other brother called, Ariola?' Ulfric asked.

'Viggo,' Ariola answered. 'And we won. Whiterun is ours now.'

She then walked away from Ulfric and went into the upper floors of the building, appearing on the balcony. Right now she didn't care about the cold. Ariola put her head in her hands. _Why?_ She asked the Gods mentally. _Why me? _Ever since she'd found out about her being the Dragonborn and her destiny to kill the World Eater, her life had turned to chaos. She couldn't stop moving anymore. When she was a child, _before_ her father turned into an abusive man, Ariola could never wait to be back at home. She loved belonging somewhere. Not anymore. Now, the thought of being confined to one space made her uncomfortable, and even more eager to get back on the road. Ariola smirked to herself. These were the thoughts of an unwavering adventurer. It seemed she had achieved her childhood dream, after all.

Ariola sighed again, and decided to head to bed. It was still relatively early, but her body was wracked with fatigue from the battle in Whiterun. When her head hit the pillow, Ariola drifted easily to sleep in her loose red tunic.

* * *

**Surprised? I hope you are. R&R!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Ariola was woken by a hand covering her mouth. She reacted without thinking. Ariola grabbed the knife tucked into her boot and swiftly had it against the neck of her intruder. She blushed when she saw who it was, and removed the blade. 'Sorry,' she said. 'Instinct.'

Ralof chuckled. 'Don't worry. It was quite amusing once the knife wasn't pressed against my throat.'

Ariola shook her head. 'You shouldn't have done that. I could have killed you.'

'But you didn't, so I'm fine.' Ralof chuckled again. 'Is it alright if Ulfric and Galmar come in? They say they need to speak to you.'

Ariola smirked. 'I'm guessing Ulfric sent you in here?' Ralof nodded, not understanding. 'I think he anticipated something like this to happen.'

'Like what?'

Ariola rolled her eyes at his naivety. 'Me lashing out.'

'Oh.' Ralof shrugged. 'Is it alright?'

Ariola nodded. 'Yeah, yeah, let them in.'

Ralof left, and half a minute later Ulfric and Galmar came in without him. 'I hear you tried to kill him.' Ulfric said upon entry, his lips tugging into a smile.

'It was his fault for waking me up with a hand over my mouth.' Ariola said defensively.

Galmar chuckled. 'You really are a warrior, aren't you?'

Ariola shrugged. 'Guilty as charged. So, what's the big news this time?'

Ulfric grew serious. 'Actually, we were hoping for your opinion on something.'

'Okay, shoot,' Ariola said, putting her hands on her hips. The fact that they were looking at her in nothing but a loose tunic hadn't yet crossed her mind.

'We were wondering whether you thought Morthal or Falkreath was the next best move,' Galmar said.

Ariola briefly thought it over. 'Falkreath. It provides the only way in and out of Skyrim to Cyrodiil. Morthal is good too, but I suggest Falkreath should be our first target.'

They nodded, and Galmar quickly made himself scarce. Ulfric chuckled. 'Always the gentleman.' He muttered.

Ariola frowned. 'What do you mean by that?' She asked.

Ulfric raised an eyebrow at her. 'Are you really oblivious to the fact you're in a very loose and somewhat revealing tunic?'

Ariola looked down at herself. 'I didn't notice, if that's what you mean. I also don't care that much.'

Ulfric chuckled. 'Clearly.'

Ariola smiled and turned around, readjusting the neckline of her tunic as she did. She walked over to her mannequin and looked critically over her severely damaged armour, before sighing. 'I was hoping to avoid this.' She muttered to herself. Ariola was suddenly aware of a warm pair of hands on her waist. She froze and grew tense. Ulfric slowly moved her red hair over her shoulder and lowered the back on her tunic. She winced. _Damn, he saw._

'Are these from your father?' Ulfric asked, sounding surprised.

Ariola nodded. 'Not all scars fade,' she whispered.

'May I?' Ulfric asked, his hand resting on Ariola's tunic. Ariola nodded her consent. Ulfric tugged the line of her clothes a little lower, and ran a gentle finger along the length of one of her scars. 'How many have you got left?' He asked.

Ariola, after a moment of consideration, lifted her tunic over her head, revealing her back but keeping her chest and stomach covered by the red material. 'You tell me.' She said, her voice trembling.

Ulfric's sharp intake of breath said much. Ariola felt his fingers gently prod her skin - no doubt he was counting her scars. 'How could a man possible do this to his daughter?' He asked, stepping back and allowing Ariola to put her tunic back on properly.

Ariola turned to the Jarl, her eyes prickling with tears. 'It wasn't really him. he didn't know what he was doing. He was drunk.' She didn't know why she felt so defensive.

Ulfric sighed. 'Still...' Ulfric's eyes suddenly widened. 'What happened to your arm?' He asked, pushing her sleeve back to reveal the ugly wound on her forearm.

'Oh, that,' Ariola said, brushing it off. It didn't even hurt her. 'I was shot by an arrow in Whiterun.'

Ulfric frowned and gently examined the wound. After a brief glance up at Ariola, she moved her skin. Ariola let out a cry of anguish. 'I wouldn't be so nonchalant about it, Ariola. I think the arrowhead is still lodged in your arm.'

Ariola moved her arm to look at it, wincing at the stab of pain. There was, indeed, a small, round piece of metal visible in her arm. 'Huh. I didn't even notice.' She chuckled. 'I blame it on adrenaline.'

Ulfric sighed. 'Come on, let's get that thing out of you.'

'Wait!' Ariola went to her drawers and pulled out some red and black armour, black boots and black gloves. In response to Ulfric's questioning gaze, she gestured to her damaged armour. 'I've got to wear something while this is repaired. And I'm not walking around in just this. Too thin.'

Ulfric chuckled. 'Fair enough. Come on.'

...

A thin layer of sweat was covering Ariola's body by the time the arrowhead had been removed from her arm. The sheets of the bed she was sat on and a large pile of discarded cloths were stained dark red by her blood. The physician was carefully tying a bandage around her arm to stem the flow of blood, but it was soaked within seconds. With a sigh of resignation, the physician replaced the bandage with his hand for the time being. Ulfric was stood watching, a look of deep thought on his face, accompanied by a small frown. When Ariola's blood - finally - began to clot, the physician tied another bandage around her wound and gave her orders not to use it too strenuously for a few days.

Ariola looked up at Ulfric. 'You alright there?' She asked, draping her legs over the side of the bed and holding the furs close to her body. For simplicity, Ariola had taken off her red tunic and so her upper body was bare. She fumbled to get the tunic on over her head with her uninjured arm, before working to put on her new armour.

Ulfric watched her in silence until she was done, and faced him with dress-like armour. 'I'm fine. What type of armour is that? I don't think I've ever come across it before.'

Ariola smiled grimly. 'It's Vampire Royal Armour, from my adventures under Castle Volkihar.' To answer Ulfric's baffled look, she added, 'I'm a member of the Dawnguard.'

'Why wear the armour of the very things you're trying to get rid of?' Ulfric inquired.

Ariola shrugged. 'These pieces have good enchantments.' As if struck by a revolutionary thought, Ariola looked down at her arm, before grinning. A gold ribbon circled her body, healing the wound enough for her to move her arm. 'There, that should speed things up a little.'

Ulfric tilted his head to the side. 'You can use magic?'

Ariola shrugged. 'Yes, but only simple spells. Restoration mostly, although I know a couple Destruction spells too. I prefer to rely on metal weapons.'

Ulfric chuckled and nodded his understanding. 'Still, it would seem you have many talents.'

Ariola looked up at him seriously. 'Anyone can accomplish anything with enough determination and practice.'

Ulfric smirked. 'I couldn't agree more.' A sudden howl made its way through the walls of the Palace. 'Damn wolves.' Ulfric muttered.

Ariola suddenly got a blank look. 'Aal hin hokoron mah ahrk hin grah-zeymahzin kron.' She murmured. Her eyes sparked. 'I've just realised there a lot of things about me most people don't know. About my past, I mean.'

Ulfric gave a weary smile. 'Everyone has secrets about their past they'd rather keep to themselves. I certainly do.'

Ariola nodded. 'Well, I'm going to tell you this one.' For a moment she was silent, then she began to tell her tale. 'Since birth my parents raised me as a Wolf. It's like a religious cult, of sorts. The Wolves are strong believers in the Divines, most prominently Talos. Or at least, it was. It was also a cult for Legionnaires. So when the Thalmor outlawed the worship of Talos, the Wolves went into dispute. Eventually, they too stopped worshipping him. I was too young to understand the consequences, so I continued to worship him openly. The elders of the Wolves began to worry about me - no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get me to stop. I had a best friend in the cult; he was a Dark Elf. They used him against me. He tried to manipulate me into forgetting about Talos, and for a while, I did.' Ariola sighed. 'I overheard a conversation that broke my heart. He spoke of me like I wasn't human. He spoke of me like I was some sort of deranged animal. I tried to hide from them, to never see them again, but of course, that wasn't possible. So I pretended it never happened. But these conversations became more frequent, and harder to ignore. He hated me, and I began to hate him. Before long, he no longer insulted me behind my back. In fact, it became so serious that one day he was shouting at me. I was nine. It felt like someone was driving a sword into my heart to hear him say those things. Then, he too became an elder.' Ulfric frowned. 'He was much older than me.' She said quickly. 'Anyway, he gained lots of power as a result of this. He ordered to have me held in isolation. For a full week I was kept in what can only be described as a prison cell. I got a single piece of bread to eat a day. A single cup of water. They didn't let me out, and there were no windows to let in light. I was in hell. It was dark all the time, and I began to fear it. Darkness, that is. When I was finally allowed out, they kicked me out of the Wolves. Their motto was those words: "may your enemies fall and your allies conquer." I never knew why. I still don't. Anyway, I returned home and my parents were shocked. They hadn't seen me for a week. They had been told I was undergoing a special honour.' She snorted. 'Some honour. They left the Wolves too, when they found out about me. For months and months I remained like a twig. You could see my skeleton beneath my skin no matter how much I ate. My skin has remained pale ever since then. It never darkens. When I became an adventurer I got over my fear of the dark, but the sight of male Dark Elves makes me incredibly uncomfortable.' Ariola suddenly laughed. 'I saw one that looked so much like him I actually had a panic attack in the middle of the street once.'

Ulfric looked at her in shock and pity. 'You really had a tormented childhood.'

Ariola nodded sadly. 'I did. It became so bad I considered killing myself a couple of times, but I always had that one friend who could cheer me up.' Ariola suddenly started smiling. 'She was there for me every moment I needed support, and I was there for her when the tables were turned. Last I heard she was living in Riften. I don't know what she does, and I've only been there once before. In fact, I'm surprised I didn't think to find her when I was there before.'

Ulfric gave a gentle smile. 'Go and find her, then. Go to Riften and find this friend of yours.'

Ariola looked at him, torn. 'What about the war?'

Ulfric chuckled. 'I'm sure we can survive without you until you return. I don't want you to spend your entire time thinking about this damn war. I do, and I'll tell you now it's enough to give you a headache.'

Ariola grinned and jumped up. 'Thank you, Ulfric!' She said, subconsciously hugging him and placing a jubilant kiss on his cheek. She then left the infirmary, a slight spring in her step.

Ulfric was stood frozen, staring at the spot she had just occupied in bewilderment. His hand reached up and felt his cheek, where her lips had touched it. What was that?

* * *

**Yep, Ariola has a past from hell itself. Aren't I kind? It's alright, though, she at least had one good friend. Please leave your thoughts.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

Taz eagerly galloped across the empty plane, his hooves kicking up dust. When Riften came into view, Ariola slowed him to a trot. Ariola slid elegantly off her saddle and passed Taz to the stable hand without a word. She then entered the city without any trouble from the thief-guard. Clearly he recognised her. Ariola stood in the centre of the city, wondering where to start. 'Where are you?' She muttered to herself. She brought forward memories of her friend. So, she was looking for a platinum-haired Imperial, and that's all she knew for certain. Great.

She sensed rather than heard when someone approached her, and placed a firm hand on the hilt of her sword. 'That's a lot of gold you've got there, lass.' The voice behind her was strangely and heavily accented.

Ariola turned and faced the man. 'That may be so, but there's no way you're getting your hands on it, so back off.'

The man chuckled. 'You're a hot-headed lass, aren't you? Kind of like Vex.'

Ariola's eyes widened. No way was she that lucky. 'Vex?' She asked.

The man shrugged. 'A colleague of mine.'

Ariola stared sharply at the man. 'Take me to her.' She demanded.

The man shook his head. 'Can't do that, lass.'

Ariola sighed in frustration. 'Then bring her to me! I don't care, I just need to see her.'

The man eyed her suspiciously, but nodded and walked off. Ariola waited impatiently for a couple of minutes, before an irritated voice rang out. 'Where are you taking me, Brynjolf? I don't have time for this.'

The accented man was who replied, so Ariola turned to watch them approach. Vex was with him. There was no doubt it was her. 'I told you, someone wants to see you. I don't know who she is but she seemed pretty adamant about it.'

Ariola stood with her arms crossed and waited for Vex to notice her. When she finally did, the Imperial stopped short. 'Ariola, is that you?' She asked, stepping closer to the red-headed Nord.

'Hey, Vex. Long time no see.' Ariola replied coolly.

Vex stared at her for another moment, before they both grinned and embraced each other. 'Dammit, girl, where have you been?! I haven't seen you for years. How long has it been?' Vex asked when they pulled apart. Brynjolf watched them, completely perplexed.

'Five years, I think. And I've been everywhere in Skyrim, more or less.' Ariola replied.

Vex smiled. 'Finally became an adventurer, huh?'

Ariola smiled and nodded. 'What about you? How've you been faring these last few years?'

Vex shrugged. 'I've been getting along fine. Putting my skills to good use, finally.'

Ariola raised an eyebrow. 'You mean picking locks? Recruited by the Thieves' Guild, were you?'

Vex nodded, apparently proud of this. 'Before our luck turned sour. Frankly I'm beginning to question if it's worth staying. Although, that new girl's bringing in a lot of coin for us.'

'New girl?' Ariola asked.

'Yeah, joined last month. Her name's... You know, I've no idea. Brynjolf, the new girl, what's she called?'

Brynjolf chuckled. 'Trinetea.'

'Right. But yeah, she's got guts. And skill. Currently running off to Solitude to find some sleazy Argonian.' Vex smiled. 'Couldn't tempt you with joining, could I?'

Ariola smiled and shook her head. 'Sorry, Vex, don't have the time.'

Vex tilted her head to the side. 'How could you not have the time? You're an adventurer, don't they always have time?'

Ariola chuckled. 'Not always. But I'm not really an adventurer anymore. I guess I'm a soldier now.'

Vex raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest as she did. 'Finally pluck up the courage to join the Legion, huh?'

Ariola's smile faded. 'At first. I transferred to the Stormcloaks a few weeks ago.'

'Why?' Vex frowned.

Ariola shrugged. 'You mean besides the fact Tulius is a total asshole?'

Vex laughed. 'Oh, that. So I'm guessing you were in Whiterun a few days ago.'

Ariola nodded. 'Right in the thick of it, yeah. Ulfric's actually got me into tactics now.'

Vex raised both her eyebrows. 'You're on a first-name basis with the Jarl of Windhelm?'

Ariola laughed. 'Yeah. I was never particularly formal, so I don't think I've ever called him anything other than Ulfric.'

Vex shook her head. 'I'm glad we could catch up, but I'm afraid I have some work to do down in the Flaggon so...'

Ariola smiled. 'Yeah, I should be heading back to Windhelm now anyway. It was great seeing you again.'

'Yeah, you too. Actually, about that...' Ariola looked questioningly at her friend. 'Why'd you decide to come and find me after so long?'

Ariola's mood soured a little. 'I told Ulfric about the Wolves and then you came up. He insisted I find you so I did.'

Vex chuckled. 'Okay then, fair enough. Hey, since we now know where each other will most likely be, how about we work on catching up?'

Ariola nodded. 'Sounds like a plan.'

They embraced again before saying their goodbyes. Ariola left Riften in much higher spirits. They were so high, in fact, that she began humming and singing to herself on the way back to Windhelm. Taz seemed to enjoy her singing, because he began moving in time with the songs she sang.

When they arrived at the stables, Ariola was happy to see Lucia working hard and efficiently alongside the stable boy, Eronmir. 'Hey, guys.' Ariola greeted as she slid to the ground.

Lucia looked up and grinned. 'Ariola, you're back!' She ran up and hugged her. 'I saw you leave a few days ago.'

Ariola laughed and patted Lucia's head. 'Yeah, I'm back. Could I trust you to look after Taz for a few days?'

Lucia nodded enthusiastically. 'Of course!'

'Here.' Ariola pressed twenty septims into the young girl's hand. 'Share it with Eronmir, alright?' She kissed the top of Lucia's head and watched as the girl skilfully led Taz into his stall. Eronmir caught sight of Ariola and waved at her. Ariola chuckled and waved back, before heading into the city.

...

Ulfric was talking to Galmar when Ariola entered the Palace of the Kings. The Nord woman decided she didn't want to deal with war politics today, so slipped quietly into the war room and up the stairs. She went out on to the balcony and sighed when she got there. Sometimes she just wished she was normal. That she wasn't the Dragonborn and that she didn't have a childhood straight from the depths of hell. She just wished she could grow up like a _normal_ child and live a life as a _normal_ Nord girl. Apparently, the Gods had other plans for her.

Ariola didn't react to the squeaking of the door as it opened, though she heard it. She merely continued to stare impassively out at the city, reminiscing in her own thoughts. 'Do you ever wonder if your whole life is predetermined? If everything you do is as a result of someone or something else's choices?' She asked her companion.

'After living as long as I have, questions like that don't tend to matter anymore.' A cool female voice replied.

Ariola froze, before slowly turning around. She looked at her friend in disbelief. 'Serana? What are _you_ doing here? Isran finally kick you out?'

Serana chuckled. 'No, I think he's gotten used to me now. I was wandering around and saw you riding on the road. Clearly you didn't see me. Anyway, I decided to follow and ended up here. I must say, that little girl in the stables seemed very eager to talk about you.'

Ariola smiled. 'That's Lucia. I brought her here from Whiterun after the battle.'

Serana's smile faded a little. 'Do you ever feel homesick, Ariola?'

Ariola shook her head. 'Not at all. My home was like my own personal version of hell. I don't think I could _ever_ be homesick.'

Serana looked sad. 'I'm beginning to miss the castle. Even if they tolerate me at Fort Dawnguard, I don't really belong there, do I? I don't have any friends there. No one really _wants_ me there.'

Ariola placed a gentle hand on the ex-vampire's shoulder. 'You'll always have a friend in me.' She said. 'Hey, if it troubles you that much, why don't you stay here? I know fighting in wars is not your thing, but it would be great to have you back at my side.'

Serana looked critically at Ariola, weighing out her choices. 'Sure, why not? But just remember, I'm only fighting because you are. I personally have no opinion on the matter.'

Ariola grinned and hugged her friend, before replying. 'I won't forget, don't worry.'

Serana nodded. 'Well, I might as well go and check in at the inn for a while. See you around.'

Ariola followed Serana out and went to the war room. She paused there for a few seconds, debating whether or not she was in the mood, before deciding to head up to her room and have a bath. She couldn't remember how long it had been since her last.

A gentle knock sounded on Ariola's bedroom door just as she was getting out of the hot water. She secured a long white towel around her body and called to whoever knocked that she was "decent."

Ralof walked in, causing Ariola to grin and embrace her friend. Ralof had a faint flush on his cheeks when she pulled away. When they spoke, it was obvious he was trying not to look at her too much. 'There's someone here to see you. Ulfric said he needed you there as soon as possible.'

Ariola nodded. 'Alright, tell me I'll be down in a minute or two. Thanks.'

Ralof nodded and ducked out of the room. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. _Damn, she's beautiful_, he thought. Shaking his head, Ralof went back down to deliver Ariola's message.

...

Ulfric was surprised when Ariola walked in, wearing a fairly thin but fitted blue tunic. She appeared to be unarmed, though he doubted that was the case. Her red hair was wet and messy around her shoulders, though it was obvious that didn't bother her. 'Ah, Ariola, good.' He said when their eyes met. 'I have someone wanting to see you.'

Ariola raised an eyebrow, before turning her gaze to the woman before them. Ariola chuckled. 'Didn't I say goodbye to you only yesterday?'

The platinum-haired Imperial met Ariola's eyes with a smile. 'I got my work done, and we're not very busy, so I wanted to talk to you. It's very important.' Ulfric caught the woman glance very briefly at him. 'Alone, if possible.'

Ariola nodded and looked at Ulfric, a serious glint in her eyes. 'If you'll excuse us for a moment.' She said.

Ulfric nodded and watched as the two women stepped outside, his eyes mainly on the one he knew.

...

Ariola raised an eyebrow at her friend and crossed her arms, trying to ignore the bitter cold. 'So what do I need to know?' She asked.

Vex frowned. 'I'm sorry I didn't mention this earlier - I was preoccupied and it didn't even cross my mind.'

Ariola shrugged. 'You took the effort to come all the way out here, I can't exactly complain.'

Vex gave a sad smile. 'Just hold that thought.' Vex sighed. 'When we split five years ago I did some research. Something about you didn't quite add up.'

Ariola frowned. 'What do you mean?' She asked.

Vex smiled and pushed Ariola's hair aside, revealing her ear. 'Have you never noticed how unusual your ears are for a Nord?'

Ariola frowned. 'You mean they're pointier than normal?'

Vex nodded. 'Exactly. And you've always had a particular resistance to fire that Nords don't.' Vex then stepped away and shook her head. 'Anyway, I used some contacts within the Guild to do some research and...'

Ariola narrowed her eyes warily. 'What did you find?'

Vex looked sadly at Ariola, not wanting to tell her but knowing she was obligated to. 'I discovered your parents and brothers... aren't your real family. They adopted you. Your father was a Nord and your mother was a Dark Elf.'

Ariola considered this. 'I suppose that makes sense. I mean, I never felt like one of them.' She frowned. 'Do you know who they are? My parents?'

Vex shook her head. 'No, sorry.'

Ariola sighed. 'Ah, well. Thanks for telling me, anyway.'

Vex gave a sad smile. 'You're taking this a lot better than I expected.' She admitted.

Ariola chuckled. 'Frankly at this point I'm used to surprises.'

Vex nodded. 'Okay, well, I should be getting back. Sorry to just spring this on you.'

Ariola shook her head. 'I'd rather just know.'

Vex nodded and left with a smile and a wave, which Ariola returned. She then hurried inside, revelling in the warmth of the palace. Oh, how she regretted wearing only a thin tunic. Ulfric was still sat on his thrown, flicking through some paperwork.

His eyes shifted up to Ariola when she walked in, shivering a little. 'I was wondering how you were getting on outside in that thing.' Ulfric commented.

Ariola shrugged. 'After we began talking, I was able to more or less ignore the cold.' She lifted her hand to her hair and quickly shook the snow out of it, dripping water over the tiles. 'Oops,' she said, looking guiltily at the floor.

Ulfric chuckled. 'It's just water, it'll dry.' He said, waving it off.

Ariola put her hands on her hips. When she looked at the Jarl, he wore a frown. 'Something wrong, Ulfric?' She asked.

He shook his head. 'No, nothing.' He sighed and ran his hands over his face. It was only then that Ariola noticed the dark circles forming under his eyes. 'Just thinking about the war. Again.'

Ariola sighed. 'Ulfric, you look exhausted. Even the strongest warriors need to sleep. You'll end up draining yourself if you stay up.'

Ulfric sighed. 'I know. I just...'

'No, don't give me excuses.' Ariola said sharply. Ulfric looked at her in surprise and amusement. 'You need to sleep. I'd go now, while you have nothing to do.'

Ulfric scowled. 'Who said I have nothing to do?' He asked.

Ariola smirked. 'Well, clearly you have nothing _important_ to do otherwise you wouldn't be having such a casual conversation with me. If you really did have something important, you would tell me.'

Ulfric sighed in defeat. 'Fine, you win.' With a dry chuckle, the Jarl stood and left, heading sluggishly up the stairs.

* * *

**Sorry if you feel this is a chapter full of drabble - it wasn't intended to be. Please review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

**Several weeks later...**

Ariola winced as the physician wrapped a bandage tightly around her thigh. 'Easy, easy.' She said. 'It may not look it, but that wound's painful.' _Damn Imperials,_ she thought bitterly.

In the last few days the Stormcloaks had taken over Fort Hraggstad, and Ariola had gotten a knife to the leg. Though she'd made it in one piece, the ride back to Windhelm had been excruciating. She had taken Taz all the way up to the city gates to avoid walking further, and had told him to go back to the stables once she'd dismounted him. Serana, who Ariola had instructed to remain in the city during this fight, had rushed out to help her friend up to the palace.

Ulfric had seemed shocked to see Ariola come in with one arm around someone else, though quickly ordered his physician to have a look at her.

The Jarl came in now, smirking as the Dragonborn snapped at his physician for being too rough. Ariola sent him a somewhat irritated smile that didn't reach her eyes, before a pained grimace spread across her features.

Ulfric suddenly left, leaving Ariola confused, but she tried to ignore it. A minute later, a small boy came in, carrying a bundle of clothes. He placed them next to her with a smile, before bowing and ducking out again. The physician gave Ariola a nod, indicating he was done. She'd only heard him speak a couple of times, and it was obvious the physician avoided speech as much as he could. Ariola looked at the armour beside her. She then picked it up and held it out in front of her, before a smile stretched over her lips. It was Stormcloak General Armour, the kind Galmar wore, crafted specifically for her. There was a handwritten note tacked to the armour. "This is yours now. Put it on and wear it with pride. Ulfric." Ariola chuckled.

'Yes, sir,' she muttered to herself. Ariola went to work pulling on her armour - which was difficult, thanks to her new injury. Eventually she stood, fully geared up. The armour was quite short, the skirt only going halfway down her thighs, but it covered most of the bandage. There was a fur cloak draping down her back that ended with the skirt. The boots were made of toughened leather, but were lined with warming fur. The gauntlets looked like claws. Ariola frowned. Galmar had a bear hat, but she didn't. 'Must be because my hair provides a decent substitute,' Ariola said to herself with an amused quirk of her lips.

The red-headed half-Nord ascended the stairs up to the main hall, limping and having to hold the wall for support. Ariola sighed. _Oh, the hell with it_. She summoned a healing spell in her palm and gently used the magic on her wound. It began to heal faster, and the pain receded, as it always did. Ariola finished the climb and appeared in the main hall, only to find an armoured heap on the floor and several people gathered around it.

Ariola rushed forward and knelt by the body. It was a male, and he had an arrow protruding out of his shoulder. Ariola, with a quick glance at everyone else, gently started to pry the arrow out of the man's skin. It came out whole, much to her relief. Ariola then summoned her Healing Hands and began to knit the man's shoulder together with her magic. The man himself, who had been rasping in tormented breaths, breathed a sigh of relief as his pain faded.

With a little help from the female red-head, the man sat up, and that's when she saw who it was. '_Darius?!_' She gasped.

Her old friend looked at her, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. 'Hey, little duck.'

Ariola growled while everyone surrounding her - including Ulfric and Galmar, she noted - chuckled. 'Did I not warn you once that if you called me that again I'd send you straight to Oblivion?'

Darius grinned. 'More or less.'

'Well then, I suggest you remember that the next time you come in here injured, or I might just decide to let you bleed to death.' Ariola then grinned and slapped her friend on his uninjured shoulder. 'I'll admit, though, it's good to see you again.'

Darius chuckled. 'You too, Ariola.'

Ariola smirked. 'Nice to see the message is finally penetrating that thick skull of yours,' Ariola joked light-heartedly.

Darius finally seemed to notice Ariola's armour. 'You're a General now?' He asked, astonished.

'Since about five minutes ago, yeah.' Ariola chuckled.

Darius raised an impressed eyebrow. 'You're efficient, I'll give you that.'

Ariola frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean?' She asked, whilst helping the man to his feet.

Darius shrugged. 'You've made your way through the ranks very quickly, is all.'

Ariola shrugged too. 'I'll take your word for it.'

'He's not lying,' Galmar said as the gathered soldiers began to disperse. 'It took me far longer to reach this point than you. Months, if not a year longer, probably.'

Ariola raised her eyes in astonishment, and turned to face Ulfric, looking for confirmation. The Jarl chuckled at her expression. 'It's true, although the circumstances back then were far less threatening.'

Galmar snorted. 'Sure, let's go with that.'

**...**

After getting Darius a bed to sleep in the Dragonborn left to confide with Ulfric and Galmar. She found them in the war room. Ariola felt pride at seeing the map covered almost completely with Stormcloak marks. There was just one big problem left: Solitude. It was the heart of the Empire in Skyrim, where General Tulius himself resided.

Ulfric smiled at her when she entered. He presumably saw the hunger in Ariola's eyes. The hunger and determination. She wanted this over. 'Not long now, my friend.' He said with a chuckle. 'I have ordered the men and women to gather outside the city. We ourselves will head there in a few minutes. I suggest you get ready.'

Ariola nodded. 'At least this'll all be over soon. Talos knows we could all use a break from this war.'

Galmar grunted his agreement, while Ulfric just nodded. 'Get going, Dragonborn,' Galmar instructed.

Ariola nodded and went up the stairs to her room. She had changed out of her Stormcloak General Armour not long ago, instead choosing her fitted blue tunic, but it seemed she required it again. The Nord picked it up and started to put it on. Just as she was tugging on her boots there was a knock on the door. 'Yeah?'

Galmar came in. 'We're leaving now. You can come with us or you can go on your own. It's up to you.'

Ariola thought about it for a moment. 'I'll go alone. There are a couple of things I need to do here before I leave.'

Galmar nodded. 'Just don't take too long.'

Ariola chuckled. 'Knowing me, I'll either catch up with you or get there before you. See you on the battlefield. Talos guide you.'

'And you.' Galmar looked like he was about to leave, before uttering one last sentence. 'He loves you, you know?' Then he left.

Ariola sat in stunned silence. Who loved her? Surely not Ulfric. Ariola felt tears come to her eyes at the thought. Once this was all over she wouldn't be spending much time in Windhelm. She had Dragonborn duties to attend to, meaning she wouldn't see any of the people she'd grown fond of during her time with the Stormcloaks. Darius, Ralof, Galmar, Ulfric. Even little Lucia. All of them were so special to her. The thought of not seeing them for a while made her want to crumble.

Ariola shook her head. _One thing at a time_, she thought. Ariola grabbed her sword and belt and buckled them around her waist. Ariola set to work tying her hair back. It was set in a large bun at the back of her head, though a small chunk of red escaped the hold so hung beside her pale face, but Ariola didn't care. She then gave the room one last wistful look, before leaving and closing the door behind her.

...

Ariola gave the young girl a tight squeeze. 'Hey, I'll be alright. I always come back, remember?'

Lucia nodded into Ariola's stomach. 'I know you do but what if you don't this time?'

Ariola chuckled. 'I'll be fine.' She knelt down in front of the girl. 'This is the stuff I do all the time, and I'm still here. Take care of yourself and Eronmir until I come back, okay?'

Lucia nodded, wiping away her tears. Ariola pulled the little girl into a tight hug, burying her face in the Imperial's brown hair. 'I'll wait for you here.' Lucia said quietly.

Ariola nodded and pulled away. 'Good girl.' She pressed her lips to Lucia's forehead and straightened, before nimbly mounting Taz. 'I'll see you soon.'

Lucia nodded again and stepped back. 'You'd better.'

Ariola chuckled, before urging Taz into a gallop. The black stallion raced along the road for miles, before Ariola led him into the tundra and away from the paths, taking a more direct route to Solitude. When Taz came across the cobblestone path once again, at a canter now, Ariola could see the forms of two horses cantering ahead. Ariola pushed Taz back into a gallop and quickly caught up with the two ahead of her. She smiled when she saw the horses' riders. She slowed Taz down to keep pace with them.

'Well, well, well, look who finally showed up.' Galmar said with a laugh.

Ariola grinned. 'I told you I'd catch up.'

Galmar chuckled. 'That you did.'

The three of them rode the rest of the way in silence, and by the time they came to rest, they were halfway to the capital. Ariola dismounted Taz and fed him an apple from her pack, before leading him to the body of fresh water a few hundred metres away. The horse drank greedily while Ariola looked around her. She could see the outline of the mountain that sheltered Solitude, and knew they should reach it by midday tomorrow, provided they made good progress. Taz snorted when he lifted his head, and the two made their way back to their camp. The black stallion immediately lay down to rest, but Ariola sat next to the small campfire that had been made. She'd spied Ulfric helping to look for firewood, and was again struck by how little he took advantage of his position. Ariola watched him from across the fire, and saw the worry in his expression. He was no doubt worried about the fight, about his soldiers. How many would die in the battle for Solitude? Ariola wondered this herself.

Ariola sighed and put her head in her hands. 'You alright, Ariola?' Galmar asked as he sat opposite her.

Ariola nodded into her palms. 'Yeah, I guess. Thinking about what I'll be doing after this is finally over.'

'What will you be doing?' The old war-bear asked.

Ariola sighed. 'I've got a job to do beyond the Stormcloaks. And unfortunately I have a feeling I've fallen behind.' She chuckled. 'I can't seem to work out which should take priority over the other.'

Ulfric lifted his head and met her gaze. 'I thought the answer would be obvious. The war only threatens certain parts of Skyrim. Dragons could potentially threaten the whole province if the issue got out of hand.'

Ariola nodded. 'That was my thinking at first, but then I realised that I couldn't handle the dragons properly with the civil war going on.'

'What do you have to do?' Galmar asked.

Ariola rubbed the back of her neck. 'At the moment I'm supposed to be going to the College of Winterhold to find out about Elder Scrolls, but, again, I got diverted back here.'

The two warriors frowned at her. 'Why do you need to find out about Elder Scrolls?' Ulfric asked.

Ariola sighed, fighting a yawn. 'I need one to learn a certain Shout. One that was used in the past to bring down Alduin.' This time she couldn't fight her yawn, and instead covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hide it.

Ulfric, sharp as ever, caught it. 'We should get some rest. Talos knows we'll need it for the battle.'

Ariola willingly got into her bedroll and fell asleep whilst staring at the stars and two moons overhead.

* * *

**I guess I haven't done any disclaimers for a while, so here it is: I do not own anyone except Ariola and Darius.**

**Anyway, sorry to skip those "several weeks", but I figured it would just be a time-filler that few people would care about. Please leave a review, and thanks a lot if you've made it this far without skipping the rest XD**


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

Ariola woke before either Ulfric or Galmar, and quickly went to work packing up her stuff and making them a quick breakfast. They'd need to get moving promptly if they were going to make Solitude in time. Ulfric and Galmar were roused from their sleep by the scent of cooking salmon. Ariola waved them over and gave them each a piece, having already eaten her own. She then got up, dusted herself off, and went over to wake to horses. Taz seemed eager to get moving, because he kept nudging Ariola with his head.

The red-head chuckled and gently stoked his head. 'Not long now, boy. Not long.'

Ulfric and Galmar had finished packing their things a few minutes later, and mounted their horses, getting Ariola to do the same. They left the smoking embers of their campfire in the dirt, before continuing along the path. Ariola led Taz to the right, over the tundra after only an hour of riding.

She looked back and waved at Ulfric and Galmar. 'It's a quicker, more direct route. Come on.' When she saw they were following, Ariola pushed Taz to a canter and they began to eat up the miles.

...

It was almost noon by the time they clattered up the path to Solitude. It was obvious the battle had begun without them, though the Stormcloaks were yet to get into the city. Taz slid to a stop and Ariola jumped from her seat, immediately engaging in battle with the Imperials and Solitude Guards. A flourish of flames licked at one of the buildings, which had fallen over and was now blocking the way into the city. Ariola smiled and called to her dragon blood. The Words were on her tongue before she knew it.

'_FUS RO DAH!_' She sent her Unrelenting Force hurtling towards the barricade, pushing it out of the way.

The Stormcloaks continued to battle their way forward, until only the doors barred the way in to Solitude. With a little probing from Galmar, Ulfric made his way to the front and faced his soldiers. He began to speak, his voice full of passion. 'This is it men! It's time to make this city ours! We come to this moment carried by the sacrifices and the courage of our fellows. Those who have fallen. And those still bearing the shields to our right. On this day, our enemy will know the fullness of our determination, the true depth of our anger, and the exalted righteousness of our cause. The gods are watching. The spirits of our ancestors are stirring. And the men under suns yet to dawn will be transformed by what we do here today. Fear neither pain, nor darkness. For Sovngarde awaits those who die with weapons in their hands, and courage in their hearts. We now fight our way to Castle Dour to cut the head off the Legion itself! And in that moment, the gods will look down and see Skyrim as she was meant to be. Full of Nords who are mighty, powerful, and free! Ready now! Everyone, with me! For the sons and daughters of Skyrim!'

Ariola grinned and charged with the other Stormcloaks, barging through the doors and entering the city. Within seconds they were met by Imperials, but they quickly made their way up the streets. Ariola looked up to see the quickest route to Castle Dour barred, so headed further into the city. There were wooden barricades blocking the way, but a couple of well aimed blows knocked them down. The Stormcloaks charged forward once again, meeting yet more Imperials.

Ariola felt a sudden cold sweep over her, and saw an Imperial with a spell in one hand. Her body buzzed purple for a moment, before returning to normal. _Is that it?_ Ariola moved to attack the Imperial, but an arrow to his abdomen sent him down. Ariola continued battling the Imperials. She had become a true Stormcloak over the last few weeks, and now felt no reservations to killing her old allies. Ariola lived for a good fight. She raised her sword and brought it down, only to have her attack blocked by the Imperial's sword. Ariola moved to attack again, before a familiar pair of eyes met hers.

She faltered. '_Hadvar?_' She questioned.

The Imperial looked at her. 'Ariola.' He acknowledged. 'I knew it was you, you know. In Helgen. There was nothing I could do.'

Ariola shook her head. 'I was still an Imperial then. You knew that. You could have told them who I was. Instead you let them almost kill me.' She wanted to get this over with, but Ariola couldn't bring herself to end his life. She knew him too well. An iron blade was forced through his chest, and suddenly Ariola didn't need to kill him. Ariola caught Hadvar in her arms and lowered him to the ground. 'Go to Sovngarde now, my old friend.' She murmured to him. Hadvar's eyes met hers one last time, before sliding closed.

Ariola stood up and tried to ignore the emptiness she felt. She no longer desired this. She didn't want to fight. But Ariola knew she must, so continued battling her enemies.

Again they met wooden barricades, but again they were destroyed. Ariola, following behind Ulfric and Galmar, slipped past the other Stormcloaks, cutting down the Imperials that got in their way, and entered Castle Dour. They were all ready to finally put an end to this.

'Secure the door.' Ulfric ordered tersely.

'Already done.'

They made their way into the main room, and Legate Rikke met them. 'Ulfric. Stop.'

Ulfric scowled. 'Stop what? Taking Skyrim back from those who'd leave her to rot?'

Rikke shook her head. 'You're wrong. Ulfric, we need the Empire. Without it Skyrim will assuredly fall to the Dominion.'

'You were there with us.' Galmar said harshly. 'You saw it. The day the Empire signed that damned treaty was the day the Empire died.'

'The Empire is weak, obsolete. Look at how far we've come and with so little. When we're done rooting out Imperial influence here at home, then we will take our war to the Aldmeri Dominion.' Ulfric continued.

'You're a damn fool.' Rikke said.

Galmar growled. 'Stand aside woman. We've come for the General.'

Rikke drew her sword. 'He has given up. But I have not.'

Ulfric looked sad. 'Rikke. Go. You're free to leave.'

'I'm also free to stay and fight for what I believe in.'

Ulfric frowned. 'You're also free to die for it.'

Rikke suddenly seemed like she was pleading. 'This is what you wanted? Shield brothers and sisters killing each other? Families torn apart? This is the Skyrim you want?!'

Galmar growled again. 'Dammit woman, stand aside.'

Rikke continued as if Galmar hadn't spoken. 'That's not the Skyrim I want to live in.'

Ulfric sighed. 'Rikke. You don't have to do this.'

Rikke gripped the hilt of her sword even tighter. 'You've left me no choice... Talos preserve us.'

Both Rikke and Tulius started to fight. Rikke went straight for Ariola, while Tulius went for Ulfric and Galmar. Though she was reluctant to do so, Ariola killed Rikke by slamming her sword through her gut. She turned to help Ulfric and Galmar, but Tulius was already kneeling on the floor.

Ulfric sneered at him. 'This is it for you. Any last words before I send you to Oblivion?'

Tulius coughed weakly. 'You realise this is exactly what they wanted.'

'What who wanted?' Ariola asked her old leader.

'The Thalmor. They stirred up trouble here. Forced us to divert needed resources and throw away good soldiers quelling this rebellion.' Tulius coughed again.

Ulfric's lips quirked. 'It's a little more than a rebellion, don't you think?'

Galmar and Ariola both said 'heh' at the same time.

Tulius sighed. 'We aren't the bad guys, you know.'

Ulfric frowned. 'Maybe not, but you certainly aren't the good guys.'

'Perhaps you're right. But then what does that make you?'

Ulfric smiled. 'You just said it yourself.'

'It makes us right.' Ariola clarified.

Tulius winced. 'And if I surrender?'

For a moment, Ariola saw nostalgia pass over Ulfric's features. 'The Empire I remember never surrendered.' He said.

'That Empire is dead.' Ariola said softly.

'And so are you, Tulius,' Galmar growled.

'So be it.'

When no one moved, Galmar gave an exasperated sigh. 'Just kill him and let's be done with it already.'

Ulfric chuckled. 'Come, Galmar. Where's your sense of the dramatic moment?'

'By the gods!' Galmar groaned. 'If it's a good ending to some damn _story_ you're after then perhaps the Dragonborn should be the one to do it.

Ulfric nodded. 'Good point.' He turned to Ariola. 'Would you like the honour?'

Ariola thought about it. Could she bring herself to kill her former leader, the man she followed so avidly once? Ariola's hand gripped her sword. No, she was a Stormcloak now. Tulius was nothing to her. 'I would be happy to.'

Ulfric nodded and stepped back, letting Ariola approach the General. She drew her sword and, in one swift movement, plunged it into his chest, straight through his heart. Blood seeped from his wound onto her already bloody blade, and Ariola pulled her sword out of his ribcage, ignoring the guilt that threatened, just as the General's body crumpled to the ground.

'Good, it's done.' Galmar said approvingly.

Ariola had become even paler than what was normal for her. 'Yes, it's done.' She whispered, closing her eyes. Her throat had tightened up, and it felt like something was blocking it. What was going on?

...

_Meanwhile..._

_The Imperial soldier was rasping out his last breaths, the arrow in his abdomen sucking out the last of his life. 'I got her.' He rasped to himself. 'I got the General, and now she will die with me.' The Imperial coughed, and then his heart gave out. _

...

Ariola's eyes widened, her hands grasping at her neck. She couldn't breathe. Why couldn't she breathe? Ulfric looked at her and frowned. 'Ariola?'

Ariola tried to respond, but there was no movement of air in her throat. She began to panic, her lungs burning from a lack of oxygen. Ulfric and Galmar rushed up to her and she fell into their arms. She didn't want to waste precious energy staying standing._ It's ironic_, she thought, _to be killed after the battle has ended._

Ulfric was probing at Ariola's neck with his fingers. Ariola's skin started to darken and turn a bruised shade of blue. 'There's something lodged in her throat,' he reported dismally. Ariola could feel her life slipping away from her, and no longer bothered with holding her neck. She let her hands fall by her side. Ulfric looked evenly at her. 'Sorry, Ariola.' He then dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. Ariola could feel whatever it was that was lodged in her throat coming loose. Ulfric was..._ drawing it out._ When it finally came free, a startled breath escaped Ariola's lips and brushed against Ulfric's mouth. He pulled back just as the Dragonborn started coughing, gulping in large lungfuls of air. Colour started returning to her face - well, the right colour - and her cheeks flushed. Ariola lay on her back, arms wide, breathing deeply.

'What... the hell... was _that?_' She asked between breaths.

Ulfric shook his head. 'You tell me.'

Ariola closed her eyes, trying to recall what had happened. Then she remembered the Imperial. Her eyes opened slowly. 'During the battle... an Imperial cast a... spell on me.' Her breaths were becoming slower now, more even. 'It didn't appear to do anything, except make my... skin go purple for a bit. Maybe it was that?'

Ulfric shrugged. 'It's likely, I'd say. If nothing else, I'm glad you're alive.'

Ariola's gaze flickered questioningly to Galmar, who, somehow, understood the question in her eyes and nodded. Ariola closed her eyes again and swallowed. Ulfric... loved her? A wash of warmth spread over her body from her heart. It filled her, made her breathless again, made her palms become sweaty and made her heart beat faster.

Galmar grumbled and stood up. 'I'll give you a moment.' He said quietly.

Ariola didn't reopen her eyes until the door closed. Then, she shifted her gaze to Ulfric, who was still sat beside her, watching. She lifted herself onto her elbows. 'You saved me.' She said. Ulfric shrugged. 'Thank you.' Ariola put her hand over his.

Ulfric looked at their hands for a moment, before smiling. 'What else could I do?' He asked quietly. 'I had to try something.'

Ariola chuckled. 'And that something was kissing me.'

Ulfric blushed. 'You know that's not what I was doing,' he muttered, turning his head away in embarrassment.

Ariola smiled and stood up, pulling him with her by the hands. 'That's true. I just wish it wasn't.' She said, losing her nerve and not meeting his eyes. Her heart began to pound even harder. She could feel it throughout her whole body. Frankly, she would be surprised if Ulfric _couldn't_ hear it. With a mischievous smile, the Dragonborn pressed her hand against Ulfric's chest. His heart was thrumming too.

Ulfric lifted a hand and tilted Ariola's face so their eyes met. 'Did you mean that?' He asked quietly. Ariola nodded, her eyes sparking. Ulfric gave a small smile, before leaning in and pressing his lips firmly against hers. Ariola reacted by sliding her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. She lost herself in the kiss, the warmth of his lips. Ulfric's hands went to the sides of her face, forcing the kiss to continue.

Only when they had to draw breath did they finally pull apart. Ariola opened her eyes and looked at Ulfric. There was something shining in the depths of his irises - a sense of achievement, maybe? Ariola sighed. And now she had to leave, to finish what she was born to do. Ariola pulled away, shaking her head. She looked sadly at him. 'I have to go.' She said quietly. 'Someone's got to keep these dragons in check.'

Ulfric nodded. 'Be careful.'

Ariola smiled. 'And you.' Then she walked past him and left. There was a gathering of Stormcloaks outside, but Ariola ignored them and made her way back through the city. She had a job to do. Only then could she really start celebrating.

* * *

**Okay, yeah, I know there's no spell that matches the one I wrote about, but I wanted to add it regardless. Thanks for ready, and please leave a review or PM, I really appreciate them.**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Ulfric was sat on his throne, talking quietly to Jorleif. But his heart wasn't really in the conversation, so when he found a suitable stopping point, the King-to-be excused himself. He walked up to the balcony and leaned heavily on the railing. It had been many weeks since that fateful day in Solitude, and he hadn't heard from the Dragonborn since then. Sure, there were rumours spreading that she had finally battled Alduin, but also that the black dragon had escaped.

A knock on the door startled him from his reverie, and he turned to see a courier walking up to him. The courier gave a quick bow, passed him a neatly written letter, then left again. Ulfric unfolded the piece of paper and read the message.

"Ulfric, I'm almost there. I'm at the last stage now. You may or may not have heard that we trapped a dragon in Dragonsreach earlier, and now I have to release it. Barbaric, I know, but he provides my only path to Alduin. I am to head to Skuldafn, where there is a portal to Sovngarde. Yes, I'm going to Sovngarde. Hopefully I'll return. I should be able to come to Windhelm when and if I do, so look for me. Ariola."

_Speak of the devil_. Ulfric smiled and tucked the letter away in his furs. 'Good luck.' He said to himself.

...

Alduin snapped angrily at Ariola and the heroes of old, but each of his attacks missed. Ariola gripped her sword so tightly that the blood was drawn away from her knuckles. Looking for an opening, Ariola launched herself onto the World Eater's head and, once she'd got herself as secure as possible on the head that never stopped moving, plunged her blade through Alduin's skull. She jumped off and watched as the dragon's entire body disintegrated into ash, not even leaving a skeleton behind. Ariola sunk to her knees, smiling with the knowledge that it was finally over - she ignored the many burns she'd received during that battle.

'I can't believe it.' She whispered to herself.

She felt a large hand on her shoulder, and stood to look at Tsun. 'Let me know when you want to go back to your world, Dragonborn.' He said.

Ariola looked around at the place one last time, before nodding. 'I'm ready to go home.'

Tsun nodded and Shouted at her. Ariola was engulfed by a white light, and found herself at the peak of the Throat of the World. There were dozens of dragons surrounding her, waiting for either her return or Alduin's. A roar went up from each of them when the Dragonborn appeared, and they all took off, apart from two. Odaviing was one of them who stayed, and he told Ariola that he would come to her aid if she called, before flying off too.

Ariola turned to Paarthurnax. Their conversation was short this time, what with the dragons overhead interrupting them every few seconds. Ariola was about to turn and leave, when an idea struck her. She turned back to her friend. 'I have a favour to ask.'

...

Ulfric heard and felt the low rumble, and rushed outside to investigate. He froze mid-step at the sight of a gold dragon sat in the middle of the street. What surprised him even more was the lithe figure sliding off his neck. A tangle of red hair blew in the icy wind, and Ulfric watched the dragon fly off, before returning his attention to the red-head. At this point many of the city's citizens had gathered to find out what was going on.

...

Ariola thanked Paarthurnax and then he flew off. Flew home. She noted without much interest that at least half the city was gathered where she was. Ariola turned her attention to the King-to-be, who appeared to have lost the ability to move. When their eyes met, however, a soft smile played at the corners of his lips. Ariola returned the smile and began to walk towards him. Ulfric mirrored her action, and the two met in the middle of the Palace of the Kings courtyard. Ariola laughed and threw her arms around Ulfric's neck, hugging him tightly.

Ulfric chuckled and hugged her back, burying his face in her hair. 'I got your letter just yesterday.' He said.

Ariola laughed again. 'I was wondering if you'd get it at all before I came back.'

Ulfric smirked over her shoulder. 'That was one hell of an entrance.'

They pulled apart. 'Got to keep things interesting somehow.' Ariola grinned.

Ulfric's thumb gently stroked the side of the pale half-Nord's face, before they both leaned in and their lips met. Cheers went up from the spectating crowd, and Ariola smiled against Ulfric's lips. They pulled back, chuckling. 'Come on,' Ulfric said. 'They got what they wanted.'

Ariola laughed and followed Ulfric inside the Palace, which was surprisingly empty. Only the usual guards were in the room. 'Where is everybody?' Ariola asked.

Ulfric smirked. 'Since the war's over now, most people have been making the excuse to sleep in late.'

Ariola chuckled. 'I'll say. It must be almost ten already. You're still as prompt as ever, I see.'

Ulfric smiled. 'I don't have a choice in that particular matter,' he said.

Ariola looked closely at him. 'Has the moot met yet?'

Ulfric shook his head. 'Not yet. Soon, though.'

'I hope so. It's not easy keeping control of Skyrim if there's no one to rule her.' Ariola said.

Ulfric gave Ariola's hand a quick squeeze. 'She'll manage until the day she has a ruler again.'

Ariola nodded. 'Without a doubt.'

They entered the war room to find Galmar coming down the stairs, fully clad in his armour. Ariola grinned at him when their eyes met. 'Welcome back.' He said. The man yawned. 'I must say you left Solitude rather abruptly.'

Ariola's smile faded a little. 'I didn't have time to hang around, I'm afraid.'

Galmar nodded. 'I understand. Since you're here I'm guessing that bastard of a dragon finally got what was coming to him.'

With a nod, Ariola chuckled. 'Yeah, although I doubt he's gone for good.'

Ulfric and Galmar frowned. 'What makes you say that?' Ulfric asked.

Ariola shrugged. 'Alduin is supposed to be the bane of the world or whatever. Since he came back once I'm sure he can come back again, when the End Times really come.'

'What a lovely thought,' Galmar commented dryly.

Ariola shrugged. 'I doubt it'll be in our lifetime, so I don't think we have much to worry about ourselves.'

'I'll take your word for it.' Galmar muttered.

Ariola folded her arms. 'So, have we had any visible response from the Thalmor yet?'

Ulfric shook his head. 'No, although we were never expecting them to react this soon. In a year or two, maybe.'

Ariola raised her eyebrows. 'That long?'

Galmar and Ulfric shrugged at the same time, causing a smile to play at Ariola's lips. 'Preparing some sort of army takes time.' Ulfric said.

Ariola gripped her hilt of her sword tightly. 'Just let me know when something happens.'

'Hold on a minute, you're making it sound like you're going somewhere.' Ulfric frowned.

Ariola shrugged. 'I'm a natural adventurer. I don't like to stay in one place for too long. Although...' She trailed off. They didn't need to know the rest.

Ulfric chuckled and shook his head. 'After what happened in the courtyard, you can't very well leave. Expectations and all.'

Ariola laughed, flashing Ulfric a cheesy grin. 'If you want me to stay, Ulfric, you could just say it.'

Ulfric put his hands on Ariola's waist and tugged her close. 'Okay,' he murmured into her ear, causing shivers to run down the young Dragonborn's spine. 'I want you to stay.'

Ariola wanted to reply seriously, but couldn't because of the sight of Galmar gagging over Ulfric's shoulder sent her into a fit of giggles. 'Okay.' She said when she finally calmed down. 'Then I'll stay. But you can't complain if I want to make a quick trip to... somewhere else.'

Ulfric nodded and placed a kiss to her cheek. 'Deal.'

* * *

**Okay, so that's the end of the story! I'm sorry it's quite short, but fear not, I plan on writing a sequel about the Aldmeri Dominion's fight back. Please leave a comment and thanks for reading!**


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